


SPARE la SPARE

by e_li



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, Kill la Kill-themed AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6432763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_li/pseuds/e_li
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“‘Stay determined. Don’t lose your way. Only then will you find it all.’ gee, with advice like that, it looks like someone’s really looking out for ya.”</p><p>Plot of Undertale, Kill la Kill style! Yeah, you read that right. </p><p>(New art with every chapter!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Way

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note: I'm well aware that Undertale isn't really hot fire anymore, but I've wanted to write something like this for the longest time. Consider this my love letter to Toby Fox for creating such a bomb-ass game. 
> 
> Previous knowledge of Kill la Kill will heighten the reading experience. 
> 
> Also, all art by me.
> 
> Also, NO FANSERVICE LOL.....

** **

 

*****

Shadowy caverns, torrential showers, and endless cascades of water give life and mystery to the area known as WATERFALL. This space is one of the few that make up the vast and varied domain of the UNDERGROUND, which is located below the SURFACE and underneath the exterior of MOUNT EBOTT. The beings that inhabit this realm—MONSTERS, as they are called—do not live here by choice, for the HUMANS, long ago, created a magical seal to confine these creatures in their subterranean prison, keeping them from the surface for all time, never to escape.

On the walls of Waterfall are glowing glyphs that depict only a portion of the rich and tragic history of monster-kind. Thankfully, the story of how monsters became trapped in the Underground is fairly well known in some parts, so there is no need to spend time recounting the full experience.

That will come later.

There  _is_ a part, detailed in the most recently added glyphs, worth paying special attention to:

“The time for retribution is at hand, for our lord, the SOVEREIGN OF MONSTERS, has created the perfect kingdom.”

“With the power of seven human SOULS, our lord will destroy the magic seal that binds us, and lead his army of elite soldiers into a glorious battle against humanity."

"Finally, monsters will claim total dominion over the surface.”

“However, our lord only has six human souls. One more is needed for him to reach his full magical potential, and set all monsters free.”

The glyphs end there.

Now-

Let the real show begin.

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-EDGE OF WATERFALL-**

*****

“IS THIS THING EVEN ON?”

Standing on a compact stage overloaded with spotlights and sparkles is a rectangular robot with noodle-like arms and a wheel for feet. Right on center stage, he fidgets with the microphone in his hand, tapping and flicking the windscreen in an effort to test the botched and broken audio levels.

 _tap_ _tap_ _tap_ _tap_ _tap_ _tap_ _tap_ _tap taptaptaptaptaptaptap_

Finally fed up with his faulty, unresponsive tech, he searches through his "databanks" for a solution to his predicament. He manages to find one in no time at all, and in a bout of self-perceived genius, he blows a huge, artificial breath onto the microphone, which causes a feedback so horrifically ear-piercing that his microphone and all the accompanying sound equipment disintegrate into twinkling specks of ash. 

The robot throws his arms up in the air. “AAAAAND WE’RE LIVE!”

Shifting focus away from the robot for a bit, the Sovereign of Monsters is still waiting for the last human soul necessary to complete his plans. As a result, the battle against humanity hasn’t actually started yet, and since the chance of encountering a human is, according to old and new data, dreadfully  _low_ , most monsters have begun to lose hope in ever leaving the Underground. So in order to keep up the monsters’ morale until the battle begins proper, the Sovereign, with the help of his ROYAL COURT, has organized several rallying events, all with-

“OOOOOH, YES, DARLINGS!”

-varying levels of-

“I HOPE YOU ALL ARE READY!!”

-success. 

The rallying events take place in the most populated regions of the Underground—a strategy devised to reach the highest number of monsters while using the fewest amount of resources. The events normally involve a small stage for the host to stand on, but sometimes, a monster will stand in front of the stage and hold up audience response signs. No one knows why these events need audience response signs, but some speculate the main reason is that the audience won’t participate unless they’re told to do so. Either that, or the responses blow up the host’s ego. Both reasons may in fact be correct.

Today’s rally is located in Waterfall—which, in the eyes of the locals, is never a good thing since water always trickles down from the ceiling cracks and onto the stage equipment, resulting in some spectacular electrical failures that always make for a great conversation piece at dinner time. Nonetheless, a sizeable number of monsters (really only about five or so) have come to pay witness to the one and only creature (robot) that has offered to host the events. Or maybe he was programmed to host them. The bottom line is that no one else feels like doing it.

“IT’S TIME FOR YOUR BI-WEEKLY ‘RALLY THE MASSES’ SHOW!!”

A random monster in the audience gets up.

“AND OF COURSE, BI-WEEKLY IN THIS CASE MEANS TWICE A WEEK, NOT EVERY TWO WEEKS.”

The random monster leaves. 

The events were much more fun the first thirty of forty times they took place, but lately, they just haven't been all that interesting. The only reason some monsters even show up anymore is to watch the unremarkable-looking guy holding the response signs make his hilarious, and somewhat disturbing, facial expressions, usually in response to the robot’s antics. There is a single soul, however, that still finds something to enjoy while watching the whole "rallying" shtick: the yellow lizard-like monster child in a yellow and brown striped shirt sitting in front of the stage (and sporting what appears to be a lack of arms). He bounces in his seat, grinning and giggling with a glimmer in his brown-rimmed eyes, as he anticipates the next exciting thing the robot has to say.

For fifteen minutes, the robot spouts nothing but stories already told and details already heard regarding the monsters’ imminent return to the surface. He’s too engrossed in his speech to realize that the audience has dwindled to an even smaller size, but as par for the course, he pauses mid-way through his dialogue and waits for those well-earned audience responses.

Which-

 -don't come. 

Never one to let setbacks trip him up, the robot starts from an earlier part in his speech, reaches the midpoint, pauses, waits for a reaction, and then- 

Still nothing.

The robot sends a death glare— the strongest he can manage despite having a grid of small monitors for a face—to his assistant, the monster guy holding the audience response signs. The monster in question, an orange cat-bear-something-or-other creature, is trembling too much to notice the sharp stare his boss is drilling into his back. 

“HURRY UP, LOYAL EMPLOYEE, THE AUDIENCE AWAITS THEIR RESPONSE SIGN.”

The cat-bear is practically convulsing at this point, so much so that his baggy pants are making a distinct rattling sound with each shudder.

- _boom!_ -

Everything goes quiet. The robot stops staring and looks around for the source of the noise. The cat-bear’s eyes fill up with tears.

- _BOOM!_ -

Everybody in the vicinity looks up. The lizard monster child wakes up from a nap he didn’t know he was taking.

 **-** **_BOOM!_ ** **-**

Rocks and debris erupt from the roof of the cavern. Everyone shouts and shrieks and makes a run for cover, but they stop in their tracks when guards clad in black plate armor jump down from the new hole in the ceiling and form an impenetrable line on either side of the tiny audience. On the breastplate of each guard is a golden star, the insignia of the ROYAL GUARD.

The robot host lets out a sigh and shrugs. “WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A RALLY HERE, FOLKS. CAN’T THIS WAIT-” 

What manages to shut the robot up is the rapid twinkling and disappearance of three bright yellow stars from beyond the ceiling hole. The monster child, no longer groggy from his impromptu nap, gazes up at the space where the stars had just shone.

The child couldn’t believe it. Was  _she_  really here?

His answer arrives in the form of a tall, dark figure hurdling down from the hole above.  It lands on the ground with incredible force, cracking the earth around its boots and kicking up new pieces of dust and rubble. For a short while, it stays in a crouched position, letting the howling wind breeze through its red ponytail and long, barely off-white coat.

As if on some invisible cue, the figure rises up from the ground. Everyone holds their breath and watches with trepidation as the clouds of dust obscuring the figure settle, revealing a blue female fish monster with sharp, crooked teeth and a left eyepatch decorated with three yellow stars. Small cracks and grooves run across the left half of her scaly face, and they seem to be coming from underneath that eyepatch.

The fish monster immediately turns towards the robot. She stomps over to him, jumps onto the stage, leans into his monitor-face, and with a big, booming voice, says,

“I’M ON OFFICIAL BUSINESS!”

The robot shrieks, sputters out a nearly inaudible “Yes, sir!” and zooms right off the stage and in some other direction. Once the robot is out of sight, the fish monster turns around to overlook the other monsters.

“I’M THE **HEAD OF THE ROYAL GUARD, GENERAL UNDYNE**!”

Her words, an almost tangible force, ricochet of the rocky walls. All monsters in the immediate area stop and listen.

“Residents of Waterfall,” says Undyne, hopping off the stage to walk back and forth in front of the audience. She looks out over the crowd, and comes to a sudden halt as her all-yellow eye locks onto the lizard monster child. She advances towards him, her high-collared coat billowing with every step, and bends down so her face is mere centimeters away from his.

“And what do you think  _you’re_ doing here?” she asks him, her voice low and strict.

The child’s heart lurches, but he shines a bright smile at Undyne anyway.

Feeling the pressure of the child’s unwavering energy, she lets out a hefty, almost resigned sigh, and rises back up to continue her stride.

“It has come to our attention that there is someone among you who intends to disrupt the hard-kept peace of the Underground.” Abruptly, she stops in place, and with her hands on her hips, sends an unpleasant and threatening scowl to the monsters in front of her. “So that ‘someone’ better get over here and accept their punishment.”

The other monsters look around in an effort to locate the suspected perpetrator. The monster child is too busy gaping at Undyne to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

To everyone’s surprise, the cat-bear, who was watching the spectacle from afar, drops the response signs and steps forward to face Undyne head on. The look on his face, a combination of twitchy anticipation and gritted frustration, is quite remarkable, and if everyone wasn't so distracted by the stand-off, they might consider it his best expression yet.

She ignores this, and focuses on him with a wide eye and iron-cast intent.

The cat-bear reaches a slow, shaky hand into his pants, pulls out a gluey, sequin-infested burger-

-and hurls it at Undyne’s face.

 …

 Silence.

 All the monsters’ eyes go wide.

 The amount of sweat coming off the cat-bear could create a whole new waterfall.

 …

 Stillness.

 The burger slowly trails down Undyne’s face, leaving behind a gooey muddle of glitter, ketchup, and paste.

 All eyes are on her.

 She isn’t moving.

 After a few seconds, the guards snap out of their stupor to look for the cat-bear.

 But he’s long gone.

*****

 The cat-bear’s running down a dark corridor, deep down into the unknown. He skids to a clumsy stop, makes a sharp turn into an even  _darker_ passageway, but he keeps moving forward. He’s going, going, hanging on to his jangly, baggy pants, going, going, stepping on mushrooms, slipping on puddles, but he’s going,  _going_ -

But then he hears footsteps, terrible and awful footfalls no different than raindrops plunging from a hell-bending storm. Loud, violent, relentless, and getting really _-_

_-really close!_

He turns around on his heel to confront the advancing noise.

Nothing is behind him except for an empty passageway.

He’s wheezing _,_ his body all shaky and fidgety, and leans over once he feels fatigue setting in. Placing his hands on wobbly knees, he forces out a few chuckles to calm down his nerves. “I must be goin’ crazy…” he says.

A hand seizes his shoulder, and before he can yelp, he’s turned around and hoisted up by his shirt collar. It takes a while (about two seconds in this case) for his brain to register it, but he soon realizes he’s staring right into the burning pupil of a yellow eye.

All he can do now is whimper.

Undyne’s voice starts off quiet. “ _You honestly thought you could stop me…”_

She tightens her hold on his collar, enough for the fabric to tear. Even with her still-sticky face, she manages to look straight up  _furious_.

“… _with A GOD DAMN_ ** _HAMBURGER_**?!?”

And he’s  _flying._

Flying, maybe not, but he does know he’s moving really fast and really,  _really_  far. Undyne must have thrown him, but everything’s spinning and he’s too busy screaming to figure out what in the hell is happening around him. After spending a few hapless seconds in the air, he tumbles to the ground in the middle of a large, dim cave.

Undyne stands above him, the shoulder pads in her coat somehow adding to her already threatening airs. Lines of guards wait at attention behind her, but one particular guard steps forward and offers her a moist towelette to wipe her face with. She grabs it without any second thought, scrubs her face clean of the residue from the burger attack, and hands the sticky little towel back to the guard.

In a neighboring area way off in the distance, the façade of an opulent white castle blends into the inky blackness of the abyss, while small, shimmering stones wedged into the ceiling provide the only source of light in the otherwise gloomy cave.

Undyne decides she will not be having any of that. “FLAAAAASHLIGHTS!”

The guards pull out flashlights from the inside of their armor, flip on the switches, and focus the intense lights on the cat-bear’s battered and torn body. He groans and grunts, letting out a strained “dammit” as he struggles to pick himself up from the muddy earth. When he finally finds his footing, he reaches into his pants once more and pulls out the source of those jangling noises: two humongous black gauntlets with a golden star on the back of the hands.

“Heh,” says Undyne, “it’s LV One Ultima Armor Gauntlets…the only way to transform into a LV One Guard.” She folds her arms over her chest, and smiles a particularly toothy smile. “Looks like I’ve found our thief. Go ahead. Try it on. _See what good it does_.”

And he does just that, sliding the gauntlets onto his scrawny hands. Even with the odd fit, he feels a buzzing energy resonate from the huge metal gloves. It seeps into the tips of his fingers, rushes to his elbows, and finally to every part of his frame, filling him with strength and purpose—a feeling he’s never felt before.

“I-Incredible!” he says, looking amazed before hunching over from the new sensation. “I can feel the power surging through my entire body…

AND-

MY-

_SOUL!”_

A pure white light and yellow stars momentarily engulf him.

After the brightness dies down and the stars fade away, what greets Undyne’s and the guards’ eyes is the cat-bear covered head-to-toe in thick, black armor: a helmet on his head, a golden star adorning his breastplate, and the gauntlets now a perfect size for his hands.

The remaining light from his power-up renders the flashlights null.

“No way,” he says, flexing his now armored fingers. Content with his new look, he assumes a fighting stance, fists up and legs apart, silently challenging Undyne to a match. There's no way she could take him on when he's like _this_. He has this in the bag. Hell, maybe a promotion is in that bag, too.

“Alright,” Undyne says, all smug and proud as she raises a hand high into the air. In the space above her palm, tiny magical bubbles materialize and hover before quickly multiplying to form a long, electric blue spear. She grabs on to her weapon, and proceeds to position herself for combat as well.

Her smile doesn’t waver.  _“Let’s test it out.”_

The cat-bear feels an undeniable chunk of dread sinking in his gut, but he stands firm. He's got this, he tells himself. He knows it.

Undyne hurls the spear towards the cat-bear, who dodges it with little effort. That doesn’t seem to bother her, though, so with that huge smile on her face, she cranks up her battle strategy—which means she just generates more spears and throws them at him in a scene that closely resembles a flickering blue light show.

“My body’s moving super fast!” the cat-bear says, staying in place and evading Undyne’s attacks with striking precision.

“Of course,” says Undyne, not once letting up her assault. “That’s the power of the Ultima Armor!”

The cat-bear reaches out and slaps an oncoming spear out of his way. With fury burning in his soul, or maybe it was blind overconfidence, he charges at Undyne, fist balled up and ready to strike. “Then  _DIE!”_

Probably a poor choice of words, there, but in any case-

His punch makes contact with her stomach. The sound of impact reverberates throughout the cave.

The air stiffens.

…

…

The cat-bear starts sweating all over.

Undyne remains unmoved.

“Awww, that’s too bad,” she says, mockingly, arms outstretched to show how lame her opponent’s attack was. “Your armor’s a LV One, but my eyepatch lends me LV Three power."

The stars on Undyne’s eyepatch gleam so brightly, the cat-bear swears he hears a distinct  _twinkling_  noise. This strikes a dense, shaking fear throughout his body—one so potent that his armor starts to rattle like a baby’s toy. Underneath his helmet, the look of sheer terror contorting his face could best be classified as a _God help me, I’m so screwed, I never got the chance to get my acting career started_ -level expression.

Well...it's not like he had much of a chance for a gig, anyway.

“Sorry,” says Undyne, not really sorry and only saying it to give him the smallest pinch of false hope. Against every and all possibility, she manages to crack an even  _bigger_ smile at him, and makes damn well sure he sees her jagged teeth in their sharp, slanted glory. “But your attacks can’t do a _THING TO ME_!”

She unleashes a barrage of spears at the cat-bear, the poor guy now utterly powerless to retaliate. Every spear strikes at his armor, and knocks him around like he’s some kind of low-rate battle practice dummy.

Then Undyne does something that sends him into a wild panic: she grabs onto a random spear and wills it to  _extend_ , transforming it into a long, curving whip, spearhead still intact. To many, this was the height of any battle involving Undyne, proof that she had utterly wasted her enemies to such a degree that she was free to use her most revered, yet most frightening, final weapon. It should've had a dazzling name like any cool magical attack, but in reality, monsters are not that good at naming things and sometimes can't even spell basic words properly, so in order to pass up any possible naming debacle, Undyne's attack garnered the simple, uninspired name of _spearwhip_.

That's it.

Doesn't mean it didn't inspire all types fear in the cat-bear, though.

She flings the spearwhip at him, and it wraps around his body twice, thrice, four times over. The spearhead then  _punctures_  his breastplate—not deep enough to stab his body underneath, but sufficient enough for her to have a good hold on him. She tightens her grasp on the whip, and with extra zest, starts swinging him around the cave.

“Sneaking Ultima Armor gauntlets out?!” she says, slamming the cat-bear into a nearby wall-“What were you planning on  _doing with them_?!”-and into another wall-“Perhaps you’re a spy working for those ‘human protection’ traitors!”-and into many other walls. “The power of the armor’s been wasted on you, and you’re not fit to _WEAR IT_!!”

To end her tirade, she casts the spearwhip downward, quickly shoving the cat-bear into the ground and bringing him that much closer to unconsciousness.

 _Totally_ _not_ _worth_ _it_ , he thinks to himself.

Undyne walks up to his mangled, still-armored body, dislodges the spearhead from his breastplate, and throws the whip away in some other direction.

“Return those gauntlets,” she says, picking him up, turning him so he’s facing away from her, then tightening her hold on him. “Right  _NOW_!”

Undyne (while belting out a piercing “NGAAAAAHHHH!”) lifts him up over her head, falls backwards, and lets him go so he lands neck and shoulders first into the dirt, the collision providing enough force to snap the gauntlets right off his hands. This causes the rest of the armor to crack and shatter into numerous pieces, which crumble into bright little bits before swiftly disappearing, leaving behind the beaten cat-bear in his regular garb of a torn pink shirt and ragged pants.

Undyne, smiling to herself for accomplishing such an awesome finishing move, retrieves the gauntlets, dusts them off, and hands them to the nearest guard, the same one who offered the towelette.

From her pocket, she pulls out a small microphone—one of the many devices hooked up to the kingdom-wide wireless intercom system.

“Listen up, monsters of the Underground!” she declares into the microphone, the look on her face now totally serious. From purple caverns and snow-covered homes, to damp blue caves and orange seas of lava, and ending with high-tech halls and dark gray ceilings, all monsters catch the sound of Undyne’s powerful voice.

“Your ruler, the Sovereign of Monsters, tasked me to enforce the laws of this kingdom, and as long as I walk this Earth, those laws  _will_ be upheld!”

A brilliant blue light shines from the tallest spire of the far-off castle, forcing Undyne to direct her attention towards it. The source of the radiance is a goat-like monster of about thirteen years, dressed in a green and yellow striped shirt and faded black pants. His stance is powerful and his expression quite stern, although it’s an admittedly rough contrast to his soft facial features. Clutched in his left hand and close to his side is a crimson trident only a smidge taller than he.

Undyne and all the other guards bow at his presence. She would never admit it, but she offers a soft smile at his arrival. “Always great to see you out and about,” she whispers in his direction.

She reverts back to serious a second later, and stands up straight to speak into the microphone. “EVERYONE,  _BOW_!”

Monsters from all over bow on command, even though not everyone can see the Sovereign from where they are.

Undyne continues on. Best not to keep him and the other monsters waiting.

“Behold,  **THE SOVEREIGN OF MONSTERS** :  **ASRIEL DREEMURR**!”

The blue light intensifies, almost enough to overshadow the young Sovereign completely. He lifts up the trident and taps it on the floor, resulting in a metallic _clunk_  that officially signals the beginning of his speech. From behind, the silhouettes of three other monsters watch on.

He takes a deep breath before speaking into his over-the-ear microphone:

“Overcome your fears! Believe in your strength! Fight for your future!

“Those are the principles of this world, and if you wish to survive, then you _will_ submit to them!” He takes another breath. “You cowardly fools who refuse to ACT!”

The light behind him strengthens until it encompasses everything around it.

 

*****

**-THE NEXT DAY-**

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-PATH OUTSIDE THE RUINS-**

*****

Golden flowers bloom in a small patch underneath the only known entrance into the Underground. Thin rays of sun stream down and reflect off the round little petals, granting them an almost ethereal glow. In the middle of the flowerbed, surrounded by slumber, lies a human being of about thirteen years, clothed in a red and blue striped shirt and jeans. A vibrant red streak runs through their messy brown hair, and clutched in their hand is a long, wooden stick.

A drop of water falls from the opening way up high.

It lands on the human’s cheek.

And they awaken.

*****

 


	2. Escape

** **

 

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-  
-PATH OUTSIDE THE RUINS-**

*****

The sudden burst of sunlight that hits the human’s hooded eyes causes them to wince, sharply, but after a quick minute and a couple of blinks, their vision adjusts to the light, and they stare at the opening way above them.

Their mind is all fuzzy and it’s pretty hard for them to tell who from what and why from how at the moment, but they slowly gather that _that_ must’ve been the hole they fell through earlier. It doesn’t look terribly big from where they are, but given how far _down_ they are, it could be anywhere up to a kilometer wide and-

Wait, no, that doesn't sound right. That’s too big. Tooooo big. A centimeter? Ah, that’s definitely not it, either.

They don't really feel like delving into the horrific mysteries of length and width and units of measure, so they focus their attention on the...wonderful _warmth_ engulfing their body. They’ve probably been baking in the sun for a good amount of time, so that must be where it's coming from, but this feeling isn’t the same heat that tingles your skin after sitting out on the beach with a thin layer of sunscreen for three hours. This was a pleasant, friendly, tender kind of warmth, the one waiting for you at the fireplace once you make it inside from a snowstorm. The one you experience while eating a delicious home cooked meal. The one you feel when locked in a mother’s embra- 

And they notice that there's a faint yellow glow in the air around them.

Something in their brain registers that they haven’t moved any part of their body since opening their eyes. They’re too dazed to move their head around, so they shift their right hand ever so slightly, which had been completely still at their side the entire time, and it makes contact with a soft “something.” With a swift twitch of their fingers, they gently knock their fingernail against it again. Then, using their their thumb and forefinger, they pinch whatever it is they just touched. It’s thin, but puffy--the unmistakable texture of a flower petal. 

The human forces their head to the side.

And nothing but golden flowers meets their eyes.

Bright, beautiful, and bending to the smallest of breezes. They turn to face the other way, and more flowers sway to greet their gaze. This must be the source of that yellow glow, and the obvious cushion for the hefty fall they took. The thought of such a lovely patch of flowers waiting for them at the bottom of this cave creates an inexplicable sense of hope in their heart, and a comfortable conclusion comes to their mind almost immediately.

The afterlife they’ve stumbled into, they surmise, is pretty nice. Way nicer than they thought it would be, and way more comfortable. They wouldn’t mind staying here for a few more minutes, hours, maybe a couple of eternities. So they let that satisfying warmth carry them off into another round of sleep, one that would be free of pesky uncertainties, nagging worries, and- wait a second.

They wiggle their fingers.

...

Was there something in their left hand?

The human’s awareness of their surroundings had dimmed to such an extent that they hadn’t even recognized the position of their other limbs. They could only liken the experience to the effects of a slight overdose of laughing gas at the dentist’s office. But in all seriousness, they just want to figure out what it is they’re holding on to, so they push all of their focus on that. After giving the “something” in their hand a tentative squeeze, they manage to collect two pieces of information: it’s solid and it’s tube-shaped. Another squeeze is given, this time a little harder, and they find that the object doesn’t warp or crack under the pressure. Finally overcome with the teeming desire to see this thing with their own eyes, they lift up their arm (which was much more difficult than it should have been. Gosh, how long had they been asleep for?) and they bring the mystery item directly in front of their face, which blocks the sun from their eyes and casts an oddly-shaped shadow across their head.

A stick.   

Iiiiiiiiiiit’s a stick.

_???????????_

The human, filled with an endless supply of questions, raises up their other hand to help hold up the stick. Carefully, they study it, taking into account it’s dark brown color, it’s length (it had to be about as long as their torso), and it’s unevenly-forked end. They give it a puzzled look, and start sluggishly waving it around like a child unenthusiastically playing with a wooden sword. With nothing else to do, they might as well start addressing that list of questions they mentally wrote down.   

_Where did it come from? Was it always with me? I certainly don’t remember finding it on the way up the…_

_...mountain..._

The human stops waving the stick. Their eyes get wider, and the tiniest beads of sweat start to dot their forehead.

 _That’s right. I was walking, no, running up the mountain. It was getting really dark but- chasing, someone was_ chasing _me, and I had to get away and-_

They push themself upright into a sitting position, still holding the stick, trying to ignore the thoughts.

_There was nowhere left to go. I messed up, messed up real bad, and if they had found me and  taken me back, I’d have to-_

It doesn’t work. It was getting harder to breathe.

 _Everything went wrong. Everything everything everything and I didn’t know what else to do and there was nothing left for me to do because everyone left and-_  

Where did the warmth go? It feels so cold.

_I had to do it I had to do it I had to do it I had to do it I had to-_

They can’t stop shaking.

_I had to-_

They don’t want to think about this.

_I had to let go-_

They want to go back to sleep.

_I had-!_

They never want to wake up-

_I had to die._

-ever again.

*****

They’re huddled over now, drenched in sweat and devoid of breath and damn near close to exhaustion. The stick is back at their side, clutched tight in their hand. There’s nothing else for them to hold on to, so it would have to do for now.

Truly, there is no real way to reason through this situation without losing the last bit of their peace of mind. Actually, forget it, they aren’t fooling anyone; there’s none left at all. It’s as if nothing ever existed inside of them--like someone who had it out for them cut a hole down their belly, scooped out the innards through the incision, and threw it all out in a pit somewhere. It’s pretty hilarious how for a split second everything seemed to be just fine, yet the powers that be decided that a reality check is just what they needed today, of all days. They couldn’t even pretend to be in the afterlife without some outside force bringing them back into the here and now.  

For some reason, they feel like laughing at all this: the fact that they survived a fall that should have killed them, the fact that they don't have much of a life to return to, and the fact that someone is most likely laughing hysterically at their current situation. They probably _should_ laugh, just to ease off some of the tension, but their mouth is way too dry to be doing such things.

All the human wants to do is lie down and let the soft flowers bring them back to sleep, and to forget about this life they lived, but with their shirt all disgusting from the sweat, that might not be such a great idea. The flowers did nothing to deserve the cruel punishment of being smothered by sweaty shirts, so they will spare them from that fate.

There was only one thing for them to do now. As much as they would rather sit and _wait_ for the afterlife to take them someplace else, that’s never going to happen, and they know it. See, some tiny little thing inside the human would always nudge them to stay active whenever they found themself in a funky mood, and today is no different. They couldn't just be miserable, no, they had to be miserable _and_ productive _._ So they sit up straight, get their breathing in order, and focus on tackling some of the biggest questions their current situation has presented to them.

_Here we go..._

First, is this really the afterlife? That one, with a little thought, amounts to a pretty obvious “no.” The human paid enough attention in Soul Studies class to know that SOULS (those heart-shaped things inside people) move on to the afterlife, not bodies, so even though they might have felt all light and fluffy when they woke up, that wasn’t any indication that they made it to the great beyond. It must have been some weird side effect of the flowers or something. They must have been sleeping for a while if they fell at night and woke up with the sun directly above them, so maybe they inhaled a bunch of pollen during that time. Who knows.

Speaking of the flowers...

If falling and landing on the flowers didn't kill them, then how are they not in any pain from the impact? They had to have fallen about two meters…wait, that's too small a distance. Three? Four? Was it centimeters again? Whatever the correct measurement is, it's really big, so they should've been in pain _somewhere_. Flowers don't just magically save lives like that.  

But maybe there were bruises-

The human does a quick sweep of their body--lifting up their shirt and rolling up their pants and taking off their shoes and socks to spot any discoloration of the skin. They find nothing. Of course.

That's two questions down, one more or less settled and the other one still up in the air.

Now for the last one.

They turn their attention to the stick at their side and swallow hard at the sight of it. If there was any chance that their negative feelings from before had subsided, that chance had swiftly crumbled to pieces by now. Every single one of those uncertainties and worries come tumbling back in full force, and the worst part about it is that they aren't quite sure why. Looking at the stick, let alone thinking about it, does nothing for their mood. They couldn’t understand the effect it had on them. It’s only a stick. Nothing else.

At least, as far as they know.

And that’s why they have to study it, one more time, to see if anything stands out. They didn't  remember having it before they fell, and waking up with it already clasped in their hand is enough cause for alarm. So there must be something, anything, out of the ordinary here.

Unfortunately, the human’s habit of forming multiple hypothetical scenarios starts peering into their thought process again-

Suppose they find something strange on the stick. It could be a secret code, or maybe a reset button that could allow them to redo all the mistakes they made in the past. That would be pretty neat. It would also make the inevitable, arduous climb out of here that much more worthwhile. Things would start going _their_ way. Good thing.

But then there's the opposite situation. They don't find anything. The stick is a stick through and through. The end. They slog home, sit back on their bunk, and let the status quo begin anew.

Granted they don't get _expelled_ when they go back. Bad thing.

So the human has no idea what they want. A way out? An answer to all their troubles? An encouraging message to let them know that everything’s going to be alright? They don’t know, and they’re this close to calling it quits and going back to that “waiting for the afterlife” plan they thought up a few minutes prior. But they pick up the stick. They bring it close to their face. Their eyes survey its surface, and as they twist it around to look at in full, they see it.

_No freakin’ way._

There's words carved out of the bark.

A nervous sweat prickles their underarms. Blood rushes to their ears. Confusion tangles their mind. They really can't believe what they’re seeing. Heck, they weren't expecting to see anything at all. Just a second ago they were on the verge of a meltdown from surviving a humongous fall, and _now_ they're holding a mystical stick with a phrase scratched into it. God, what in the actual hell is going on-

The human drops the stick in their lap and proceeds to smack the sides of their face with the palms of their hands. They have to calm down, they have to. Losing their cool is no longer an option. Things are weird enough, so there’s no need to go around freaking out every time something strange goes down. If they’re going to get through this, they have to stay _focused_.

After a few shakes of their head, they start to feel their body relax. They pick the stick back up and bring it close to their face again, their nose practically touching it, and with a calmer disposition, they give it a good look to make sure that what they saw before wasn't a trick of the mind.

…

Yup, yup, those are definitely words. Actually, it’s not just words, but three separate phrases, all in a single line. The slanting script it’s written in makes it difficult to decipher what it says, but as far as they can tell, a message is really there, right before them.

The human isn't done yet. To further confirm their findings, or mainly just to prove they're not losing all parts of their mind, they reach out a shaking finger to trace along the writing.

Their finger makes contact with an individual letter.

A scene suddenly flashes into their mind.

_Swirling gray clouds, bright blue lightning, and a towering shadow before them. The winds are rushing and tossing around their hair. They can’t feel their feet on the ground. They’re not in any danger though. Safe. They feel safe._

_A far-off voice._

_“...control!”_

_There’s a response to that call, but the wind is tearing through their ears, so they can’t hear all that well. Someone’s talking to_ them _now, that much they can make out. Then they feel something forced into their hand. The world grows bright._

_Then dark._

The human remains motionless, stick still in hand. No sweat, no shaking, no labored breathing--only an eerie and unwarranted acceptance of what they just saw. They don’t remember experiencing anything in their life related to that vision, but it felt as natural as any other memory from the past. Once again, a flood of questions comes forth to demand answers, but they choose not to address them, and instead decide it’s about time they read the message scrawled on the stick.

Maybe all the answers they need are right there.

They grip the stick with both hands, as tight as they possibly can, ignoring the stray splinters digging into their palms. Gathering every ounce of strength that hadn’t been stolen or sucked out over the last few minutes, they squint their eyes and try their best to interpret the line of words before them.

_Okay, that’s an “S” and a that’s a “T”...That “W” looks kinda weird, though...Geez, these letters are so closely bunched together, but I think I…_

_Oh my god._

They put a hand over their chest to still their thumping heart. It’s the words... _those_ words, the last words that-!

_There’s no way._

With a giddy mind and an unsteady voice, the human reads aloud the words they never thought they’d find, yet the ones they needed the most.

**“Stay determined. Don’t lose your way. Only then will you find it all.”**

_Wow._

They take a deep breath.

In. Out.

And they laugh.

At long last, they laugh. Not just a chuckle or a giggle or even a heckle, but a genuine, “head-leaning back to face the sun” kind of laugh. How long has it been since something made them feel this _relieved?_ It had to have been a few months. Maybe even longer than that.

They laugh and laugh for a good long while until they can’t breathe anymore. A smile lingers on their face after the laughter subsides, then it fades into a more solemn expression some time after that. Not one of sorrow, but one of...appreciation.

_You show me a crazy little vision, then give me something to help me along._

The human looks up at the opening they fell through, the stick held up in their hands like an offering.

_You never really left me, did you?_

They don’t receive an answer, so they make up one in their head anyway.

_“Of course.”_

They smile again at that.

However, this is no time for a complete celebration of life. They’re completely unsure of what may lie ahead of them once they climb out of this cave, but the main point now is that they’re not _as_ unsure. Not _as_ hesitant. Perhaps landing down here is just what they needed: a time of recollection. Regrouping. Reassurance.

Friends, for them, weren’t always that great. Neither was school. Neither was life. They’re aware of that. They’re fine with that--well, maybe not fine with it, more like accepting of it--but sitting here wallowing in all that misery won't solve anything. The human knows that, and _they_ did, too, all that time ago.

It won’t be easy, facing the spectres of the past and their ramifications head-on, but they’ll do it. Somehow, they’ll do it. Because they know how the world works. They won’t make the same mistakes again. It’ll be _different_ from now on. 

For the first time since they fell down, they rise up off the ground, leaving behind an indentation in the otherwise immaculate patch of golden flowers. They grip the stick tight in their hand, brush some hair out of their face (and once more when that pesky red strand refuses to stay behind their ear), and furrow their brows in a look of pure Determination.

It’s time to get the hell out of this cave.

*****

One quick glance at the opening and another quick glance around the cave brings the human to a daunting realization.

_Yeah, there’s no getting out of here._

Biggest problem: the climb. Even if they did manage to grab hold of some the rocks protruding from the cave walls, they’d be climbing for an extremely long time. That hole is just way too high up, making any attempts at a proper ascent damn near impossible.

So now what? Well, they don’t feel like falling into another mental breakdown, so searching the area for another way out seems like their best option. They just hope they can find one.

Cautiously, they step out and away from the flowerbed. If there’s something they don’t want to do, it’s needlessly step on these gorgeous flowers. Preserving their beauty is a must; the patch did cushion their fall after all.

They spend more than a few minutes scouring the cave for any sort of hole or crack for them to fit through. Patting, knocking, and kicking the walls warrant no results, and things are looking pretty grim, but their eyes suddenly fall upon a particularly dark corner of the space they’re in. With piqued curiosity, they approach it, and the closer they get, they start to feel a breeze.

A certain “lift” pulls up at their heart. Eager and willing, they outstretch their hands to try and touch a wall amongst the shadows. Nothing meets their fingers except for some warm air blowing back at them.  

This must be the way out.

The light from the main area of the cave does a miserable job in illuminating the newly-found path, and the potential dangers awaiting them once they pass through unsettles their stomach, but-

They take a gander at the stick in their hand, and their nerves settle.

This is what they’ll do: they’ll walk down the path, find another one that leads upward, and be on the surface in no time.

The plan is set.

For safekeeping, they shove the non-forked end of the stick into their back jean pocket. After that, they turn around to take one last look at the flowers. It's silly of them, but they thank the flowers for the small support they offered, and wish them farewell.

The human steels up, and walks down the dark path into parts unknown.

*****

After passing through two enormous thresholds, one surrounded by gray pillars and the other by purple ones, the human finds themself in the midst of something they never imagined they would find.

Another cave, but with an old city inside of it.

Purple dilapidated buildings, distant whirring noises, and a sinister white fog are the first things they notice as they begin their trek through this new land. But pretty soon, it becomes increasingly clear that those are the _only_ things they notice. There’s no signs of life anywhere, which is a crying shame because they were hoping that if people actually lived down here, those people would have to know how to reach the surface. No one can stay stuck down here forever, right?

So the next couple of moments involve the human walking down empty streets, climbing up rickety staircases to get around blocked roads, and stumbling around trying to figure out the correct way to go. They'd sometimes stop to knock on doors and discreetly peek into windows to locate someone, but their efforts yield no results whatsoever.

They stop in the middle of a particularly foggy alleyway to ponder a few options. Maybe if they travel towards the source of that whirring noise, they'll finally find some people and-

_-Rrrribbit-_

They stop pondering.

_-Rrrrrriiiibbit-_

Is that a _frog_ they're hearing?

_-Ribbit-_

_Guess that's supposed to be my answer._

The human goes ahead and searches around for its whereabouts. Frogs aren't their favorite animal, not by a long shot, but it feels like it’s been such a long time since they've seen a living thing, so it'd be pretty nice to catch a glimpse of it, wherever it might be.

_-Rrrrrrrrriiiibbit-_

The croak, a little louder this time, sounds like it's coming from directly behind them. With a swift turn of the heel, they're facing down one direction of the alleyway.

And they see the frog’s silhouette, faded by the heavy fog.

Okay, so how do they get it over here without scaring it away? The only thing they can think of is the method people use to call cats over, so they’ll try that out and see what happens.

“Here...froggy, froggy...”

_No!!!!!! I'm so lame!!!!!! Why would that even work!!!!!!_

Miraculously, that seems to do the trick, and the frog starts hopping closer.

_Oh wow, it's actually coming over here._

And closer-

_Dang, it’s a lot bigger than I thought._

Closer-

_Hold up, is this thing even a frog?!_

It hops into the air, high above the fog, and barrels down right at the human.

“No way!”

They stumble backwards, mouth agape and eyes wide as they clumsily evade the frog’s heavy impact with the ground.

It's embarrassingly obvious upon closer inspection that this creature is _no_ frog, or at least, not any frog they're familiar with. Height-wise, it goes up to about their waist. Appearance-wise, it looks like it belongs on the front of a cereal box. And even though it's peering at them with those unsettling eyes, they notice that a face on its _belly_ is peering at them as well. Seriously, what is going on with this thing?

_-Rrribbit!-_

_(Come on out, guys!)_

Wait, how can they understand what it's saying now? And who are these “guys” it called out to?

From behind the “frog,” three more odd-looking characters jump forward, one a little moth on the verge of tears, the other a horned eyeball-thing with tiny feet, and the final one a...slow-moving piece of gelatin?

_Huh???!!!!!!_

All four creatures move to form a tight circle around the human (it takes a while for the gelatin to make it over, but it does in due time). The only thing they, the human, can do is stand completely still and hope to god that the weird little guys realize they had a previous engagement and leave to go somewhere far away. It's a bad plan, but it's all they've got going right now.

They reach behind their back to grab hold of the stick nestled in their pocket. No intention of fighting enters their mind, but they do want to make sure it’s still there.

_-Rrrribbit rrrrrribbiiiiiiit-_

_(We’ve been watching you make your way around town. You seemed lost, so we wanted to offer a helping hand and send you in the right direction.)_

As it turns out, the frog (they'll just keep calling it that), the moth, the eyeball, and the snackfood were only worried about them. The human gives a strained sigh of relief, and in earnest, tries to form a response as quickly as they can. They can’t believe they’re about to communicate with these things, but they don’t want to be rude.

_Is this really happening?_

“Th-thanks a lot. But...why did you try to jump on me earlier?”

They mentally smack themself for that last question.

_-Rrrrrrrriiiiibbit-_

_(We_ wanted _to help you, but then I noticed that cool stick you have there, and made an executive decision to take it and see how much it sells for on the market.)_

 _Oh_.

_-Rriiiiibbiiiiiit-_

_(You're in the most deserted area of the RUINS. Ever since the new regime took over, this spot has become the prime location for the shadiest business practices in the Underground, and a place we’re looking to make our turf.)_

The human begins to wonder if they somehow landed in limbo.

_-Rrrriibbit-_

_(So if you want to continue forth with everything intact, we suggest you hand over that stick and step on out of here.)_

The words “perplexed,” “bewildered,” and “flummoxed” are too tame to describe the human’s current state of mind. There’s crumbling purple caves, beings that defy evolution, and worst of all, attempted robbery. Asking for answers has become a pretty useless endeavor by now, so they rapidly review some of the possible outcomes of the predicament they’re in, and settle on a plan that could potentially save their life. But given the unassuming nature of the creatures around them, they should be fine as long as they act cordial. 

The keyword being “should.”

“I’m, uh, I’m really sorry, but I can't give this to you.”

The frog and its cohorts don't like what they hear, so they step into the human’s personal space a little more.

“Really, this stick has to stay with me.”

They move in a liiiiitle more.

“I don't want to fight. I really, _really_ don't want to fight you, so please leave me alone, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

They all look like they're about ready to attack (except that weepy moth. It just looks like it needs a box of tissues).

“Please, I…!”

_-RRRIIIIIIIIBBIT-_

_(GET‘ EM!)_

All four of them jump high into the air. The human reels their head back, and finds that their adversaries are charging at them from above with incredible speed. With nowhere to run and nothing left to do, they duck down, shut their eyes, and brace themself for the inevitable attack.

_I can’t believe I’m gonna die like this!_

At that moment, a white light starts shining from their chest.

_-Rriiiibbit-_

_(Whoa, what is that?!)_

The blinding strength of the light knocks the creature quartet way, way back. Still huddled over, the human opens their eyes, and immediately looks down at the radiance bursting out from their own body.

All the human can mutter is, “What in the world?”

In two seconds, the light is gone. There’s also a flash of red, but it disappears as well. They stand up in the middle of the alleyway, stunned, brain on stand-by.

_-Riibbiiiit-_

_(We give up, you win!)_

Their brain flips back on, and they turn to face the creature gang, all bending over, heads to the ground. The frog speaks up, and it sounds pretty exasperated. Was it the light that scared them that much?

_-Rriiiiibbit-_

_(We weren’t really going to do anything to you. We value mercy above all else!)_

The human is puzzled, and they have a _lot_ to say on the matter, but they’d rather just push the entire ordeal behind them. Mysterious sticks, freaky critters, and dazzling chest lights...all of this craziness makes them want to take a serious four hour nap.

“Well,” says the human, “I’m not going to hurt you guys.” An idea pops up. “But maybe you all could tell me how to get out of he-”

“HOOOOOOLD IT!”

A flash of yellow skims past the human’s face and skids to a shaky stop in front of the frog. Once the human gets a better view of it, they guess that it’s some kind of bipedal lizard with a striped shirt and huge spines on its head.

And big eyes.

And it’s pretty short, too.

They should be surprised, but they’re not.

The lizard takes in a huge breath, and addresses the creature crew in a boy’s voice that’s nowhere near puberty. “Mugging folks in the middle of the day again, huh?!”

The four of them don’t look too affected by the mild chastising.

“How many times do I have to tell you that this spot already belongs to the baddest duo of merchants ever?! Man, you guys must have a death wish or something!”

Whatever the lizard said must have triggered the “flee” command in the creature posse because they briskly scuffle out of the alleyway and into the fog. Or maybe they just got sick of hearing him talk.

_-Rrrrrrrrrriiibbit-_

_(Sheesh, we’re going, we’re going. But one day, we’re gonna take over this alley and become the ballers of this town! BALLERS!)_

The human and lizard remain.  

“Yo, sorry about that,” says the lizard with a nervous smile. “I guess I got a little carried away-”

Out of nowhere, a cheery, yet kind of obnoxious, game-show tune starts playing off in the distance.

“OH MY GOD!” The lizard goes into a tizzy. “I’M GONNA BE LATE!”

He takes off in a blaze of glorious speed, enough to slightly impress the human, at least until-

_-WHUMP-_

He lands flat on his face.

It’s at this point that the human realizes that the lizard has no arms, as he’s having a bit of trouble picking himself up off the ground. They take a step forward to offer some help, but they quickly find that he has it all under control, and within seconds, he’s back on his feet and well on his way.

The human remains.

Finally alone with only their thoughts for company, they run a quick mental recap of everything that’s happened so far.

…

…

…

And they only have this to say:

“What the hell?”

...

_“What’s going on????_

*****

That god-awful music is still playing and it’s really starting to get on their nerves, but they can’t stop themself from walking down the street to find the source of it. In all truth and honesty, it’s because they have no other plan to work with. There’s no one around to help them, and staying alone for too long might invite more wannabe gangs to jump them in another alleyway. So here’s the plan they’re focusing on right now: hearing music means someone has to be playing it. That someone has to be competent enough to know what’s going on, meaning they might be able to offer them some guidance in finding a way out of the cave. Seems reasonable enough. All they have to do now is hope that it comes to fruition, and doesn’t fall on its face like that lizard they saw earlier.

The music is getting louder. Just a few more steps and they should see something…

They turn a corner, and in a fairly dark area enclosed by old buildings, they see a stage.

 _Bingo_.

It takes every ounce of the human’s self-control to _not_ barf from the music, but they remind themself that the sooner they find someone to help them, the sooner they can be free of this assault on their ears. With as little noise as possible, they approach the stage, and as they do, they notice that there’s no one standing on it, which is a real bummer, though they do notice something else: the lizard from before sitting right in front, bobbing his head along to this “sick” beat.

They get a little closer to him and realize...wait, he’s not bobbing his head to the music at all.

He’s _sleeping_.

_What??_

If this is the thing he didn’t want to be late to, then why in the world is he asleep? Who operates like this?

Memories of visions, frogs, fairies, eyeballs, jello, and lights from chests come crawling back into their mind. Nothing operates like anything anymore. They really need to start cutting their expectations, for it’s a brave new world down here and they should start getting used to it until they find a way out.

Lizard boy (they’ll just call him that) wakes up, abruptly. He turns around and looks at the human with those big brown eyes, and an enormous smile stretches across his face.

“Hey, hey! Over here! This seat’s open! Come sit by me!”

They scan the area. _All_ the seats are open. They’re the only ones here.

“Come on, come on, come on! It's about to start!”

The human has to think about this for a little bit. Ever since they entered this broken down city, the beings they've come in contact with have only wanted to mess with them, beat them up, _kill_ them. Lizard boy seems to be the one exception, but there's no telling if he's suddenly gonna pull out some knives, slice them up, and eat them for dinner. Then again, he did clear out those hooligans for them, although that group had forfeited already due to some chest lights freaking them out (seriously, what was that all about?).

“Ya gotta hurry before all the good seats are taken! Oh, wait, I can just save you one. I'll do that!”

They purse their lips, and decide, probably against their better judgement, that this guy might be on the safer side of things. Regret will punch them in the face once they're chopped up into pieces and roasting over an open fire, courtesy of lizard boy secretly being an assassin, so they hope to heaven that they're making the right decision trusting him. It's also not like they wanted to become _friends_ with him or anything like that. This is just to conduct business: thank him for helping them out back there, then ask him for directions out the cave. Done deal.

The human walks up to the empty seat, but before they sit down, they take out the stick from their back pocket and hold it instead (since sitting on top of it might not be the most comfortable sensation). With all that handled, they plop down right next to lizard boy.

He turns to them to continue the conversation. “My name’s KID!” he says, his voice all bubbly. “It's nice to meet you and everything!”

The human’s so shocked to hear him introduce himself that they completely forget to thank him and ask for directions to the surface. As a result, they sit there, mouth parted, staring at the lizard--no, _Kid_ \--like another eye had popped up on his face, which is actually a poor analogy because they literally just had a run-in with an eyeball not too long ago. Anything can happen here, so maybe he really does have the natural ability to grow another eye.

Kid bounces a little in place. “Sooooo, do _you_ have a name?”

A name. Yeah, they do, but they can't even remember what it is because they're so...flustered for some reason. They try their best to let him know but their voice has dwindled to a pitiful rasp.

“Y-yeah, um, mine is-”

The music, which had been mercilessly playing during the entire exchange, comes to a stop. Red carpet searchlights on either side of the stage blink to life, and tiny cannons appear from underneath the stage floor to shoot puffs of glitter on Kid and the human.

“Oh man,” says Kid, “that part _must_ be new!”

The human spits out some glitter that made it into their mouth. No more expectations.

From offstage, pink smoke creeps in, coating the entire stage before spilling out into the two-man audience. Kid looks as if he can’t hold himself together anymore.

 _Then_ something starts descending in front of the stage’s sparkly backdrop, and once it’s down far enough, the human can see that it’s a gaudy, neon pink sign that reads “M-T-T.” Where it’s descending from, the human can’t tell. There isn’t enough space above the stage for something like that to even be _stored in_ , let alone descend from.

“Man, he’s really pulling out all the stops!” says Kid. “ _None_ of this happened yesterday!”

_Yesterday? This has happened more than once?_

Finally, what the human can only assume is the main attraction arrives. All the spotlights point towards a circular platform that’s rising up from below the stage, and atop this platform is a robot. A rectangle-shaped robot on a single wheel. With a flick of his wrist, a microphone appears in one hand, and with a sweeping gesture of his other hand, he beckons to his audience:

“WELCOME, ONE AND ALL, BEAUTIES, TO YOUR LOCAL ‘RALLY THE MASSES’ SHOW-- THIS TIME IN THE GLORIOUS LOCATION OF THE RUINS, A LAND FREE OF DRIPPING WATER AND NEEDLESS INTERRUPTIONS.”

The human is surprised by the sheer power of the robot’s voice. They could almost feel themself getting invested in whatever the robot’s doing, but they also remember that horrendous music from before and suddenly, they’re not feeling so “into it” since there’s a high probability that it might start playing again. The only thing they could get out of this is a passing hint to where the nearest exit is. Out of curiosity, they turn to see how Kid is handling the beginning of the show, and he’s...asleep. Eyes closed. Snot bubble hanging out his nose.

No more expectations.

They're debating whether to wake him up or not, but the robot starts speaking again, thus distracting the human from making their choice. “I KNOW YOU’RE ALL DYING TO HEAR MORE ABOUT THE MONSTERS’ RETURN TO THE SURFACE…”

Two words catch the human’s attention. “Surface” is the first one, which causes their heart to skip a beat since they may be on the verge of discovering the way out of here. The other one is “monster.” That must be what the creatures down here are called, but there's something about the word that unnerves them. They've definitely heard it before, it's a word that everyone uses. It’s just that, in this context, everything feels wrong. _Monsters_ _underground_...had they heard it in school? In an ancient mythology lesson? They can't seem to recall, though sleeping in class might be the direct cause of that. In any case, the human hunches over and listens intently to the robot. The answers they seek could very well be hidden in what he says next.

“BUT THERE IS ONE THING I MUST DO BEFORE I REVEAL ANY MORE OF MY TALES.”

_?_

“AND THAT IS TO INTRODUCE OUR BRAND NEW AUDIENCE MEMBER!”

_!_

The robot claps his gloved hands together, and a drizzle of colorful confetti pours on the human from somewhere above their head. They’re starting to look like a four-year-old’s art project with all this glitter and paper stuck to their hair, made even worse with that random red streak curling through it.

“DON’T THINK FOR A SECOND THAT I DIDN’T NOTICE THE FRESH NEW FACE DOWN IN FRONT. STAND UP AND INTRODUCE YOURSELF TO EVERYONE!”

Oh, they’d stand up, alright--stand up and get the hell on outta there.

The absolute _last_ thing they need is more attention thrown at them. It sucks because they actually thought they were going to get some info on how to get out of here. For the sake of their safety, though, it looks like they’ll have to drop this opportunity and sneak out of here before-

Every spotlight turns towards the human, freezing them in place. Due to instinct, they keep their head down.  

“NO, NO, NO,” says the robot, wagging his finger, “YOU’RE NOT LEAVING JUST YET. YOU HAVE A MORAL OBLIGATION TO SHOW US YOUR FACE BEFORE YOU LEAVE. BUT LET ME ASSURE YOU, AFTER STAYING FOR A FEW MINUTES, YOU’LL BE DYING TO COME BACK AND WATCH EVERY ONE OF THESE SHOWS!”

Cornered again. They’re not quite sure what to do.

“NOW, LIFT UP THAT FACE FOR EVERYONE TO SEE.”

They steal a glance at Kid. He’s sound asleep. Lucky little lizard.

Running out of options has become pretty common for them as of late. There’s no telling if this robot was a _killer_ robot hell-bent on eradicating those that didn’t enjoy his shows. Also, there’s no telling if the robot had any other friends ready to beat on them for refusing to comply with his requests.

They could never be sure anymore, so the human lifts up their head. Stares at the robot.

And the next few minutes turn _weird_.

“IS THAT.”

The robot twitches.

“COULD IT BE.”

His tone is flat.

“ARE YOU REALLY.”

He seems nervous.

“A HUMA-”

All the lights cut off.

“WELL, DARLINGS, DUE TO UNFORESEEN CIRCUMSTANCES BEYOND OUR MEAGER CONTROL, THE SHOW TODAY MUST BE CUT SHORT. THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED PATRONAGE, AND I’LL SEE YOU ALL NEXT TIME. ALSO, MAKE SURE TO TRY OUT THE SOUP, I HEAR IT’S COUNTRY POTATO TODAY!”

The robot pulls out a round ball from behind their back and slams the thing down into the ground, which produces a smoky explosion. Takes a couple of seconds for all the smoke to clear, but once it does, an empty stage is all that’s left.

Discomfort settles on the human’s shoulders. The robot’s reaction to their face doesn’t leave such a great taste in their mouth. Who knows where he might have run off to. ...Wheeled off to?

Kid snaps awake. “Aw man, did it I miss it AGAIN?”

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-STREET OUTSIDE THE STAGE AREA-**

*****

The human looks up, and sees Kid running towards them.“THEEEEERE YOU ARE!”

A quick, apathetic step to the side, and they evade the oncoming “attack.” Kid nosedives deep into the dirt.

**-**

“Awww, why did you dodge my hug like that?”

_So that’s what that was._

They’re both walking down a fairly wide and foggy street, presumably towards the whirring noise since it _is_ getting louder with every step they take.

“I-I didn’t mean for you to hit the ground,” says the human, not meeting Kid’s eyes. “I just didn’t... know how to react with you flying at me like that.”

Kid pouts. “Well, _I_ was just trying to give my new bestie a hug.”

The human turns red, and turns towards Kid. “B-bestie?!”

“Sure! You sat next to me at the show, so we’re complete besties now! Oh, I saw the stick you’re holding and it totally reminds me of a sword. Do you use it to fight? Here, let’s have a duel!”

He unleashes kicks, does some somersaults, and belts out some faux-battle cries to engage the human in combat. They’re not buying it. Instead, they go in for a question they’ve been meaning to ask.

“Would you...happen to know how to get to the surfa-?”

“Wait, you never told me your name!”

They stare at each other.

“I said mine, but you never said yours!”

The human, not at all surprised that their inquiry got tanked, decides to respond since Kid had indeed introduced himself before. It was only fair, even if they are in a hurry to get out of here.

No friendship involved. Just simple conversation.

“My name...my name is SKI. Not _sky,_ but _Ski_.”

A jitter runs down their spine. Saying their name aloud leaves them feeling a little vulnerable and bare, kind of like how every time someone saw that red streak in their hair, he or she would always stare or ask to touch it or just straight up pull on it without their permission. Nothing about this felt right.

Kid looks as contemplative as a child can get. “Ooohhh, you mean that thing that you can do in Snowdin?”

Snowdin? Well, they heard “snow” somewhere in there, so…

“Y-Yeah, that’s the thing.”

“COOOOOOOL! Yo, I’ve _never_ heard of a name like that before! That is awesome!”

His happiness lights a tiny metaphorical fire in their chest. They try not to pay attention to it.

Kid is going on about how both their names have three letters and how they both have on striped shirts, but Ski tries their best to get an answer out of him as he’s talking up a fierce storm.

“So I want to know,” they begin, “about what I need to do make it back to the surface. Like, do I have to go through a specific passage, or is there a ladder I can climb, or...?”

The question somehow makes it past Kid’s wall of personal commentary, and the look he gives to Ski is one of genuine perplexity.

“The surface?” asks Kid. “Why would you-WHOA, BACK UP, SKI, BACK UP!”

Kid stands in front of Ski and butts them back into the wall of a nearby building, away from the middle of the street. They have no clue what in _any_ hell is going on, but they see Kid eyeballing the end of the street they were walking away from, so they do the same, and notice two large shadows hurrying in their direction.

The shadows, which turn out to be monsters in all-black armor, run past them, planks of wood in hand.

Ski speaks first. “Who were those gu-?”

“Oh my GOD, the Royal Guard is here!!”

Talked over again.

“Come on, Ski, let’s go follow them!!”

Kid pushes them along to trail after the guards. The journey goes on for a few minutes, but eventually they reach an expansive area that could only be described as the town square. It’s run-down, obviously, but it must be the source of all that whirring because the area is teeming with activity: different types of monsters are drilling things together, some armored guards are hauling supplies everywhere, and several of them are working together to hook up a huge monitor on a tower at the back of the square. 

And to top it all off, a single blue monster is belting out orders in the middle of it.

“Yooooooooooo...” Kid whispers to Ski, voice all wobbly. “It’s Undyyyyyyyyyyyyne.”

Ski squints their eyes. “You mean that blue lady over there? She looks important.” And possibly full of answers.

“Yup!” Kid’s eyes stay focused on her. “She’s a LV Three!”

“LV Three?”

“Wait, you don't know about it? Well, I’ll tell you! Undyne’s head of the of the Royal Guard, which means she’s part of the Royal Court, a group made up of the toughest fighters in the entire Underground. She’s suuuuuper strong, three ranks above us LV Zeros!”

Ski blinks at that. “There’s LV Zeros?”

“Yeah! The armor they make here has awesome powers, and if you manage to get some, I hear it’s super cool! You can even go toe-to-toe with regular humans!”

Ski frowns. Regular humans?

Kid keeps going. “They’re called Ultima Armor, and they go from LV One all the way up to LV Three. You have to go through a whole set of tests to get one, but if you do well enough, you could end up serving Lord Asriel Dreemurr himself! In short, it’s awesome. Ya got all that?”

They weren’t planning on receiving a lecture today, but they think they have everything down. Not that they’re going to need all that information once they locate the way out.

“So what you’re saying,” says Ski, “is that I should ask a LV Three monster about my problem.”

“Yeah, tooootally...wait, you’re gonna talk to Undyne? _Undyne?????_ Dude, she’s way too cool for us. _I’ve_ never been able to talk to her. Plus, she always gets mad at me every time I see her.”

Ski looks back at the monster lady giving out orders. From what they can tell, she’s tall, has some really sharp teeth, and appears to be well-muscled underneath her coat. Plus, she's got an eyepatch. Must have lost that eye in a huge battle.

_Nope nope nope not going over there bad idea alert._

“Are you really gonna talk to her?” asks Kid.

Ski shakes their head. “I’m-I’m not so sure. I don’t think it would work.”

Barely a second goes by before they get a response. “Theeeeeeeen let’s go together!”

“Wait, what-?”

Kid happily moves behind Ski and starts pushing them towards Undyne, who’s currently facing away from them both. Remembering how close they were to getting thrashed by other monsters before, they clamor for Kid to leave them be. It’s true that Undyne may be their only hope for a way out, but the negative consequences of crossing her the wrong way greatly overshadow their desire for an escape.

With every step, Undyne gets nearer, and with every step, Ski gets more apprehensive.

No one asks for it, but more bad luck strikes.  

A beetle-like monster with a looooong wooden plank over its shoulder comes walking by, right in front of the duo. Someone from far away summons the beetle, and as it hastily spins around to go someplace else, so does the piece of wood its carrying, which ends up _smacking_ Ski so hard in the face that they teeter way off to the side and fall over.

The beetle doesn’t even realize what happened.

Kid gasps in abject horror. “Oh my god, Ski!!!”

His cries get the attention of Undyne, and she turns around to face him.

“Well, _look_ who it is,” says Undyne, placing her hands on her hips and giving him a fairly genuine smile. “Good to see you’re in the right part of the Underground today.”

Kid’s bouncing from foot to foot, eyes darting to Ski’s semi-unconscious body some feet away. “Um, um, um, um, uhhhhhh…”

Undyne wrinkles her brows. “What's up with you?” Then un-wrinkles them. “Oh, I bet you're excited about the new monitor system we’re installing in every major sector of the Underground. See, no one likes having to listen to Lord Asriel over the intercoms, so we decided to...okay, are you _sure_ nothing’s wrong? You're all jumpy and stuff.”

He’s trying to keep it cool in front of Undyne, but his eyes keep wandering back to Ski. “Nothing, it's nothing, it's really really nothing!”

Undyne’s not impressed with his lie. “What are you even going on about?” She then turns her head to find out what he’s looking at, and she sees what’s got him so on edge. “Dear god, is that a _child_ on the ground???”

She darts to Ski’s side, comes to a stop next to their face-down body, kneels down, and places her hands on their shoulders. “Hey, are you okay? Can you get up?”

A lifeless groan spills out their mouth in response. Their head is in all kinds of pounding pain, so they would really appreciate it if everything just stayed quiet.

At least the stick is still in their hand.

“Come on, let’s get you upright,” says Undyne. Slowly, she guides Ski off the ground as Kid eagerly watches in the background. It takes some time, but pretty soon, they’re on their knees, with one of her arms wrapped around their back. “Feeling alright?” she asks.

“I-I think so.” Ski finally looks up at Undyne’s face, and they do their best to give her a warm smile. “Thanks so much.”

But after looking back at Ski, Undyne doesn’t return the smile. She appears to be the opposite of pleased--a little _disturbed_.

They stare at one another for a second or two.

And Undyne shoves Ski back into the ground.

_“Ow!”_

“It can’t be…” she says, climbing to her feet. “It’s really happening.”

Kid immediately runs up to Ski. “Dude, are you okay?!” He then turns to Undyne. “W-w-what made you do that to them?”

She steps backwards. “The time is actually here.”

Ski struggles to get back up.

_I knew it. Complete disaster._

Undyne balls her hands into fists and calls out to the crowd around her. “ _IT’S A HUMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!”_

Dozens of guards in black armor stomp into the town square and surround the space where Undyne, Ski, and Kid are located. They all draw their weapons--large hooked swords--and direct them at their target: the human on the ground.

This must be the best day of Undyne’s life, because the smile on her face is dangerously close to showing all of her teeth.

“For years, we’ve waited for this moment,” she announces to no one in particular, “and now, we have done it! The light has found us at last!”

Her gaze lands on Kid, and she looks less than impressed.

A snap of the fingers. “Have the monster kid removed from the premises.”

A guard comes forward, offers a salute to Undyne, and jogs over to pick up Kid and bring him somewhere else.

“Wait,” says Kid, “put me down, put me down! Ski! Ski, get up!!”

Ski is looking less than stellar, still hunched over on the ground with a nasty red bump forming on their noggin. The pain in their head _has_ subsided, incredibly enough, but once they harness some strength to stagger to their feet, they come face-to-face with their next challenge.

_Oh no._

Undyne, with a twirl of her hand, creates her signature blue spear. The guards around her lift their weapons high into the air.

She points her spear at Ski, yet doesn't look directly into their eyes. “NOW, EVERYONE, MARCH FORTH AND-!”

_“Undyne?”_

A gentle voice, a little warbled by static.

Everyone looks up at the monitor on the tower, where the image of another monster has appeared. It's a young goat. Big-eyed. Dignified.

“ _We were supposed to test out the new monitors,” he says. “What's going on?”_

Undyne stammers a tad, but she attempts to explain the situation to him. “I-I’m sorry, Lord Asriel, I know we’re running on a tight schedule, but something amazing has happened. Look for yourself!”

She steps out the way, allowing for Asriel to witness the terrified human.

No one can pinpoint the exact expression on the young goat’s face, but it’s somewhere between surprised, frustrated, and... _scared_?

Ski observes Asriel. Pleads with him, wordlessly.

_Help me._

Asriel observes Ski. Judges them, nonverbally.

He shuts his eyes, and makes the call.

_“Kill them.”_

Undyne thrusts her spear upward. “Your lord has spoken, guardsmen! Go, kill the human! Do it now for the sake of monster-kind!!”

Ski-

-is empty once more. Their mind, their heart, all of it is gone. They see monsters coming at them with glowing swords, but their eyes are all watery. They hear some shouts amongst the crowd, a few of them definitely belonging to Kid, but their ears feel clogged. They know they’re about to die, but they can’t bring themself to care.

_It’s over._

_…_

_You lied to me._

They grit their teeth. Hug the stick close.

_You said things would get better._

They yell.

_“You said I was meant to be alive!”_

Supernova-levels of dazzling light bursts from the human’s chest. It’s brighter this time, much, _much_ brighter than before, and it’s enough to stop the guards’ forward momentum. It’s enough to temporarily blind Undyne. It’s enough to bathe the entire town square.

“Argh, what is that _light_?” asks Undyne, shielding her eye from its intensity, though in vain at this point.

 _“Undyne?”_ It’s Asriel’s voice. _“What’s going on, the feed suddenly went white!”_

The guards, too, are covering their eyes, unable to see from the sudden explosion of light.

But all that white light _does_ fade away after a moment, and what replaces it is a single, pulsing red glow in their chest.

Ski places a trembling hand over it.

Everything is still.

Then Asriel’s panicked voice cuts through the calm. “ _Undyne...Undyne, do you see that?!”_

Undyne is fiercely rubbing her eye. “I can’t see anything! That little punk blinded me!”

But Asriel can see it, and so can some of the ordinary monsters that had been looking on the entire time, including Kid.

_“It’s the human’s soul, Undyne! There’s something wrong with it!”_

Ski’s blood turns cold.

Kid says something from the sidelines. “Whoa, Ski, what the heck happened to your soul?”

_What?? What’s the matter with it?_

They inspect their chest, and they see it, their soul, for the first time in their entire life. This should have been the making of an exceptionally spiritual experience, but the thing is…

**_There’s only half of it._ **

A cracked half of a red heart is floating inside them right now.

Their knees are about to give out.

 _“I guess it was true,”_ says Asriel, all the previous concern suddenly drained from his tone.

It's becoming one of those rare cases where Ski is getting genuinely fed up, and they take a shaky step towards the tower with the monitor. They hated this. They hated all of it. “You _know…_ ”

Asriel raises an eyebrow at them. _“Know_ what _?”_

“About my soul.” Ski marches closer, angrily holding the stick out to him. You know something about _all of thi-!_ ”

Without warning, a light blue flash pierces their soul, accompanied by a loud “PET!”

Ski can’t even react.

Another one pierces- “PAT!”

And another- “POT!”

And a final one- “PUT!!”

The swift blows cause Ski to fall over and hit the ground for the umpteenth time today.

Asriel acknowledges the assailant, a black and white dog monster in a custom suit of armor, one much different than the stark black of the other guardsmen. The most prominent distinction is that the dog’s armor has _two_ golden stars on the breastplate as opposed to just one.

_“Doggo, I presume?”_

A scruffy voice replies to Asriel. “Yes, Captain of the Special Canine Unit, Doggo, is here to serve you, my lord.” He brandishes his two swords, holding one at his side and the other behind his back. “Allow me to re _move_ this pesky human...with your permission, of course.”

_“They’re all yours.”_

_“_ Wait, Lord Asriel!” Undyne shuffles forward, hand partially covering her good eye. “I’ll take the soul! I can do it myself!”

 _“Well, Undyne,”_ says Asriel with a microscopic hint of condescension, “ _it doesn’t appear to me that you can really see right now.”_

“Ne-Neither can Doggo!”

_“I’m confident he’ll do his job, so there’s no need to worry. Sit and wait for a while.”_

Undyne ceases to argue with Asriel any further. She still can’t see anything because of that light, which means she has no choice but to listen to the the events unfolding before her.

On the ground and caked in dirt, Ski attempts to identify what exactly that attack was. None of their arms or legs hurt. Their head and feet seem okay. There’s just a dull pain in their chest.

They’re also feeling pretty tired all of a sudden. Was that a result of those flashes, or just collateral from the rough day they’ve been having?

Okay, they don’t have time to be contemplating anything right now.

Despite the discomfort, Ski rushes to their feet and starts working their brain to form a plan.

Out the corner of their eye, they see another horde of flashes heading right for them. However, their normally quick reflexes fail to operate, and in the middle of a side step, two of the flashes stab their soul, resulting in another bout of indiscernible pain and fatigue.

Fortunately, though, the attack doesn't knock them back down. “What _are_ those things?” they ask themself.

“Those,” says Doggo as he stands across from them, “are my magic ‘blazing blue swords.’ They’re enhanced by the power of my Ultima Armor. Doesn’t witnessing such incredible strength just _move_ you to tears?

Ski starts to sway. They’re not sure how much longer they can keep standing. “They don't even look like swords,” is all they say.

“What are you talking about?” Doggo asks, shifting his eyes to the left and right. “Wearing Ultima Armor means getting magical upgrades, cool swords, and uh, _other stuff_! Plus, Lord Asriel granted me this Ability Enhancing LV Two Ultima Armor. It infuses my swords with their power, making them sharper than sharp, faster than light!”

This is getting ridiculous. If they don’t get out of here soon, they’re definitely going to die.

Doggo bares his teeth in a sneer, and goes on to flaunt his swords in front of Ski.  “Lord Asriel is watching, so I’ll make this quick. Don’t forget to _move_ away from me!”

That’s a great idea. Ski makes a run for it.

Doggo retaliates. “That was a bad move, human! Heeeeeere they come!”

One after the other, magical sword-flashes shoot out of Doggo’s _real_ sword. Ski ducks down, jumps around, and sprints all over in an attempt to dodge the attacks, but they’re running so low on energy that they can’t bring themself to do a better job at staying alive. They take hit after hit, and they can feel the life slowly drain out of them.

“Time to _move_ in for the last one!”

As they begin to fall, another sword-flash goes right through their broken soul.

And that’s it. They’re done. They collapse.

_“I was hoping the battle would be more amusing than this, but you didn’t even use your weapon to fight back.”_

It’s Asriel again. In all honesty, Ski had forgotten he was watching the whole thing.

But yeah, fighting probably would have made things a lot easier. With a few swings of the stick, they could have laid a serious smackdown on everyone here and-

Pffft, yeah, right. Like _that_ would do any good. But there’s a deeper reason why they chose not to fight. A reason that no one around here would ever understand. So instead, they took the beating like a champ, and now they’re about to die for it.

_“Harvest their soul, Doggo.”_

Doggo salutes. “At once, my lord!”

He quickly turns to Ski, who’s stationary on the ground.

...Then he turns away from them.

Then back to them.

Then to his right.

Now he’s looking around.

“Where did they go?” he asks.

Ski can’t believe this. He can’t see them?

Undyne pipes up. She (and the guards) are still kind of blind. “Ugh, I knew it! I told you Doggo can’t see worth a damn!”

Pretty soon, no one in the square can see, as an explosion of smoke goes off right in front of the monitor tower.

 _“Wh-what on earth? What is this?”_ asks Asriel _._

Everything is swallowed up in a thick haze as the smoke joins with the naturally dense fog. Opportunities like this don’t come every day, so Ski thanks their lucky stars and crawls out the town square before the entire area is clouded over.

Kid can’t see anything, so he gives a holler. “Skiiii! Ski, did you go home already?”

Doggo does, too. “Did something just happen? No one moved! I didn’t see anything!”

Undyne’s next. “Where the hell did the human go?!”

Ski had escaped.

…

From a building in the square, a rectangular figure watches on.

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-CASTLE PARLOR-**

*****

Plush chairs and sofas furnish the long, ornate hall. Splendid crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and even though they could illuminate the entire space with no trouble at all, the larger-than-necessary fire in the larger-than-necessary fireplace provides more than enough light to do the job. Several monsters are here, and business is carrying on as usual--except for one glaring exception.

Doggo is on his knees, begging for pardon. “I’m such an idiot, sir. Please forgive my failure.”

The monster that Doggo is addressing is a tall male skeleton wearing an ivory metal suit and a blue cloak. Proudly pinned to this cloak is a brooch adorned with three yellow stars. 

“YOU NEEDN’T WORRY, DOGGO,” says the skeleton. “DON’T THINK OF THIS AS A FAILURE YOU FAILED AT, BUT AS A FAILURE YOU CAN SUCCEED IN!” He places a dignified hand on his chest, and smiles a smile that's absolutely dripping with confidence. “FOR YOU SEE, I, PAPYRUS, ROYAL SPAGHETTORE, SHALL GRANT YOU ANOTHER CHANCE AT REDEEMING YOURSELF IN THE LARGE, ROUND EYES OF LORD ASRIEL.”

Asriel, who’s sitting in the largest chair by the fireplace, is sipping a cup of tea. An old turtle is standing beside him.

Doggo repeatedly bows his head. “Yes, thank you, sir! I’ll begin preparing for the ultimate comeback. That human won’t know what hit them.” He stands up, salutes the remaining monsters in the room, and turns to walk out the parlor door. Ends up hitting the wall. Rubs his nose. Finds his way out.

Undyne’s voice rings out. “Lord Asriel gave him an order, he failed to carry it out, and you’re just gonna let him leave to try again like nothing ever happened.” She’s standing with her hands behind her back, preferring to forego sitting for the time being. “A mistake made by a special unit you oversee is _your_ mistake, Papyrus!”

Papyrus sits back on a couch and crosses his legs. “OH, I’M WELL AWARE! GIVING SECOND CHANCES IS SOMETHING MY KIND HEART _ALWAYS_ TRIES TO DO!! PEOPLE MAKE MISTAKES, SO IT’S ONLY RIGHT TO ALLOW THEM TIME TO FIX IT. ISN’T THAT RIGHT,” he gives her a cheeky smile, “ _GENERAL_ UNDYNE?”

Undyne’s scaly blue cheeks burn red. “Hey, I already cleared that up! I know I’m just the commander! Knock it off with that!”

A smaller voice enters the conversation. It’s coming from a yellow reptilian monster in a lab coat and glasses, typing on a laptop at a table. The lower half of her face is hiding under the collar of her coat, and something that resembles a speaker (which has three yellow stars on it) is covering her mouth.  “Um, I, uh, found some intel on the human. I’ve been looking over some surveillance footage from the cameras I installed in the Ruins, and from what I can tell, they just arrived about an hour ago. The reason no one saw them is because...well, I, uh, called all the guards in the area to help out with the monitor installation. I know I’m just the Royal Scientist, so I may have overextended my power, and-”

“Such negligence,” says Asriel. “Alert the guards in the area to keep an eye out for them. Keep studying that footage, too, Alphys.”

She fidgets with her hands, and bows the top half of her body. “A-At once, my lord!”

“What a shocker.” Now, there's a girly voice, one that belongs to a purple spider monster. Her cute face, darling pigtails, big black eyes (all _five_ of them), and frilly maid dress give the impression that she’s a little younger than the three that talked before her, yet a tad older than Asriel. Her three yellow stars are on her right boot, near the back heel. She’s sitting on the room’s biggest couch, and it’s covered in plushies, pillows, and colorful knick-knacks, one of them being a sparkling purple notebook titled “Muffet, Royal Pastry Chef, and Her Plan to Rule the World.” It’s not meant to be taken seriously.

She continues. “The fish, the skeleton, and the, uh, _Alphys_...all screwed up big time.” She giggles in Alphys’s direction, then looks towards the goat boy. “Hey, Lord Asriel, you said we needed to harvest the human’s soul, which I get is totally important, but that thing was broken in _half_. Is it something we should be that concerned about?”

Asriel places his teacup down on the saucer. “It has the potential of becoming the most powerful soul in the world.”

Everyone gasps and glances at one another. Undyne is the first to speak up. “How can half a soul hold that much power?”

Asriel ignores the question, and motions for the turtle to pour more tea into his cup.

“Alphys,” Asriel asks, “does the human have a name?”

Alphys taps a few keys on her laptop. “Umm, I think I heard the name ‘Ski’ used a couple of times when they were talking with that other child.”

Asriel’s about to take another sip from his cup, but stops when he hears the name. “So ‘Ski’ is what they’re called.”

A small smile pulls at his lips. “Interesting.”

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-PATH OUTSIDE THE RUINS-**

*****

They’re back. They’re finally back.

Ski looks upon the golden flowers with an almost reverent gaze. It feels like it's been the longest of lifetimes since they last saw the patch, although, technically, they were only gone a short while.

God, those flowers are just so _beautiful_.

But Ski is a different story--they look like crap. Glitter and confetti is stuck to their hair, dirt and grime are all over their clothes, and the inside of the hand that’s been wrapped around the stick is starting to bleed from gripping too hard.

And don’t get them started on their skin. Scratches, bruises, bumps. It’s a mess.

 _They’re_ a mess.

They half-heartedly chuckle and wobble over to the middle of the flower patch, stepping on as little flowers as possible. Weariness is finally starting to pull them down. Their mind wanders away.

Why aren’t they hurting as bad as before? They pretty much got their butt handed to them, and yet, they don’t feel so bad now. Don’t get them wrong, it’s still _excruciating_ , but not as _unbearable_ as it was when they were trying to find their way back here, which took forever.

Where did their soul go after they got away from those monsters? One minute, it’s shining red in their chest, and the next minute, gone. Nothing.

And why is it even broken? What the hell happened to it? Was it always like this? It wouldn't surprise them if that was the case.

...

How long will it take for those monsters to find them? They average a guess of about “not long.” That sucks. Oh well.

What kind of life does one have to live to earn a death like this? Maybe a serial killer landed down here and suffered the same fate. Is that a cool way to die? Monsters stabbing you and sucking out your soul? Sounds like vampires.

Can they change their shirt? They really smell bad.

_Okay, I’m going to sleep now._

Kneeling down on the flowers kind of hurts. Trying to let go of the stick hurts even more, so they have no choice but to hold onto it.

They mutter something. “‘Only then will you find it all.’”

What a load of crock. They stayed as determined as humanly possible, and didn’t find any way out of here.

So that is that.

...

_Hmmm._

Not having any options sure does blow, but don’t people usually get on their knees and pray when things get this bad?

Well, they’re already on their knees. They’re also hurt, dirty, and exhausted. Perhaps being cleaner would have been a nice touch.

Can't clasp those hands together since one is preoccupied, so they instead opt for lifting the stick towards the opening they fell through.

God, that hurt like hell.

Time to think about what they’re going to say...

It actually doesn’t take too long. They’ve got it.

What they come up with isn’t so much a prayer as it is a declaration of sorts, a stunning summary of what’s happened before, what’s happening now, and what’s going to happen in a few minutes when those guards get in here and axe them.

They believe it’s a pretty good way to go. A blaze of glory, or something like that. 

Ski faces the opening, closes their eyes, holds up the stick.

A single breath.

A tiny pause.

A prayer.

“Eff my life.”

And there’s _noise_ , the deafening, unmistakable sound of rock shifting heavily against rock. Ski stands back up, and frantically, they look around at the cave. Some parts of the walls are moving and flipping and sliding around to reveal...they can’t tell what those round things are. Speakers? Fans? Circular machine guns?

_My prayer sucked, my prayer sucked, my prayer sucked, these things are gonna kill me, my prayer sucked._

It all stops.

It’s quiet.

_Was that it?_

Powerful winds blow in from the fans in the cave walls.

They bring their arms over their eyes.

In two seconds flat, a flurry of golden petals encircles them.

-

Off to the side and peeking into the cave is a familiar rectangular robot with a small device in his hand. There’s a pink light, and his form changes into something taller and more humanoid. 

He smiles at the havoc he’s caused.

“Consider your prayers answered,” he runs a hand over his slick metal hair, “my new human friend.”

*****

They can’t see-! What’s going-? What happened??

Ski is still covering their eyes. It’s loud, it’s hectic, it’s aggravating how much stuff is flying around them.

But the whole thing ends quickly. The winds settle. The noise dies down. A fleeting peace returns.

A heart beat. Two. Three. They lower their arms. And they’re shocked.

The flowers are gone.

Petals and stems are scattered about on the cave floor. Underneath their feet is an empty patch of black dirt.

“No…”

This place isn’t safe, either.

“No...!”

They’ve got to get out of here, but there’s nowhere to go.

“No, no, _no_!”

Ski takes one small step backwards. Feels a faint rumble from below.

Their eyes flick downward.

A muffled female voice speaks up at them. _“Wait…”_

Ski’s heart lurches into their throat.

_“Wait…Do not leave…”_

They back away from the dirt patch. “What the-?”

 _“Come back,”_ says the voice. _“Please, come back.”_

Another rumble. _“Do not leave.”_

A much larger one. “ _Please!”_

Something shoots out from the dirt patch at breakneck speed and comes careening towards Ski. Before they can move the stick up to defend themself, they’re knocked to the ground **_again_** by a mysterious whatever-it-is.

They can’t believe what they’re seeing on top of them. “Is..Is that a _sweatshirt???_ ”

Indeed, it’s a hooded red sweatshirt with an outline of a face printed on the front. The face is made up of an array of shapes, but it doesn't remind Ski of anything human--rather, it resembles a cartoon drawing of an animal. Two multicolored eyes, an inverted triangle for the nose, and two more inverted triangles for fangs.

It looks worried.

Ski’s eyes are as wide as they can possibly be.

“Do not be afraid, my child!” says the sweatshirt. “You must put me on! You _must_!”

“What?” Ski wiggles to get free, letting go of the stick in the process. “Sweatshirts talk down here, too??”

“Wear me,” she commands them, trying to pull herself over Ski’s head, “and let me protect you! I do not want to go back to sleep!”

“What are you even talking about???”

“There is not much time! Do not be scared! Put me on, quickly!”

“How are you even talking????”

“That is not important right now! Allow me to lend you my power!”

A dusty scuffle breaks out between Ski and the sweatshirt. They try to push her away from them, but she keeps slipping more and more over their body. It all feels so damn weird...

Soon enough, she’s on all they way, and some kind of power starts swelling inside Ski.

“There!” says the sweatshirt. “You see? A perfect fit!”

Thin streams of red light spill out from their chest.

“Argh...arrgh…what _is_ this?” they ask.

They rise to their feet. Red streaks of lightning crackle around them.

_So much power...I can’t hold on to it!_

They bend back and bellow to the sky. A giant pillar of red energy and multiple yellow stars surge out from their soul.

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-TOWN SQUARE OF THE RUINS-**

*****

“Hey, human!” says Doggo into a microphone that broadcasts to the Ruins. “You listening?!”

He’s standing in the middle of the square, with Papyrus to his immediate right, and the monitor tower looming behind them. They’re both standing in front of a platform with an X-shaped cross mounted on it, and hanging off that cross, upside down and defenseless, is Kid.

Only his feet are bound to it, for obvious reasons.

Doggo keeps going. “An hour from now, we’re gonna start experimenting on your little friend here. We have reason to believe he’s working with you to bring down the monster kingdom, so if you want to save the spines on his head, get your butt moving and _show yourself!_ ”

A bunch of monsters have gathered to watch the spectacle. They’re keeping their distance, though, because there’s no telling what might happen out here.

But that rectangular robot is back, and he’s rolling around, interviewing members of the crowd for their opinions on the developing story.

He doesn’t even have a camera to record anything with.

“GRACIOUS VIEWER,” he says to a moth monster, “PLEASE SHARE WITH THE AUDIENCE YOUR EXACT EMOTIONS REGARDING THIS ANIMALISTIC EVENT! EVERYONE AT HOME IS JUST DYING TO KNOW!”

The moth trembles at the request. “I-it’s really none of my business, so I should stay out of it…but I don’t see how we as monsters can stoop so low.” It looks towards the monitor, which is tuned in to Asriel and the other three members of the Royal Court. “I know Asriel Dreemurr is our lord and master, and we should lay down our lives to serve him... but I don’t know. Nothing about this seems right...”

The robot, surprisingly, doesn’t have a response, and instead turns to watch Papyrus and Doggo talk to one another.

“A HOSTAGE?” asks Papyrus. “SOMEHOW, THIS SETUP SEEMS A BIT TASTELESS.”

Doggo scowls, bearing a fraction of his teeth. “If I fail again, my Ultima Armor will be confiscated. Since this child is the only one we know of that actually spoke with the human, I really don’t have much choice.”

Papyrus nods his head in approval. “GOOD WORK! YOU SEEM TO HAVE YOUR NON-SEEING EYES ON THE PRIZE! NOW, GO OUT THERE, BE A GOOD BOY, AND PROVE YOURSELF TO LORD ASRIEL!”

Kid is anxiously swaying from side to side on the cross. “Aw man, I really hope this ends soon! All the blood is gonna rush to my head and I’m gonna look like an ugly spiny tomato! I should’ve stayed in Waterfall today!”

A monster yells out from the crowd. “Monster’s don’t bleed, dude!”

Doggo decides to move the show along. “Bring it in!!”

From an unlit corner of the town square, a large LV One guard wheels in a tank filled with clear boiling liquid.

A collective shudder runs through the audience.

It parks the tank in front of the platform, salutes, and lumbers away in the other direction.

Kid squirms around some more. “No way. You guys are gonna cook me in oil?? That is so frickin’ _awesome_!”

Papyrus tiptoes over to Kid and whispers something to him. “WE’RE ACTUALLY NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING TO YOU, BUT YOU _ARE_ MORE THAN WELCOME TO GAZE UPON THE WATER THAT’S BEEN BROUGHT TO A MODERATE BOIL. _I_ DID BEFORE WE STARTED, AND I LEARNED A GREAT DEAL FROM THAT EXPERIENCE.”

Papyrus tiptoes back to his previous spot.

Back in the crowd, tensions are running high. Everyone is discussing the morality of experimenting on children, the whereabouts of the human, and some other unpleasant topics that weren’t even relevant the day before. Among the nervous monsters are the frog, moth, eyeball, and gelatin. They’re having their own talk.

_-Rrrrrriiiibbit-_

_(Maybe we should do something to help out that kid. Come on guys, let’s-)_

An all-black hand holds back the frog. It looks over to its side, and finds that the hand belongs to a kneeling figure with a cloak covering its head and body.

_-Rriiiibbit-_

_(Holy crap, it’s you!)_

No reply.

The figure jumps into the air so fast, it creates an upward gust of wind. They step on a few of the guards’ heads to reach their destination, and in another second, they’re grabbing on to the cross that Kid is strapped to.

The smile that forms on Kid’s face shows all his teeth. “Ski! Is that you?”

They nod. “Hold on tight, okay? I’m getting you out of here.”

Ski pulls out the stick from underneath their cloak and slashes the shackles keeping Kid on the cross. They all break apart. He’s free.

“Wait, Ski, I just remembered I don’t have anyhandstoholdonwithI’mgonnafall-!”

But they already have an arm around Kid’s torso. Together, they leap up and away from the cross, just narrowly missing the six or so guards rushing in to capture them.

Ski and Kid do a few twists in the air before landing in front of the main opponent.

“Ah,” says Doggo, still talking into the mic, “what excellent movement. You sure do know how to stir things up, human.” 

Ski places Kid on the ground and gives him a light pat on the back. He looks all types of confused, but he gets the message and scurries away to a safer spot.

They turn their attention back on Doggo. “What were you planning on doing with him?” they ask with no hint of amusement.

Doggo’s eyes are shifting around again. “Oh, nothing, but the threat worked in bringing you back here to fight me. So let’s duke it out, one on one. Winner gets your soul.”

Ski lowers their head, glares at him. “I’m not going to fight you.”

Doggo throws the microphone in some non-specified direction. “Too bad. That's what we're doing.”

He pulls out his swords and aims them at Ski.

...Except they’re actually aimed a little to the _left_ of Ski.

No one focuses on that--what they’re actually focusing on is the dazzling eruption of light pouring from Ski’s chest. Everyone, except Doggo, already has sunglasses on to protect their eyes, but there's a faint whiff of disappointment when the light doesn't seem quite as bright as before. It also doesn't last as long. There _are_ still plenty of “oohs” and “aahs” once the white light dissipates and leaves in its wake the broken red soul that's become the talk of the town.

Doggo licks his lips. “I guess the battle has begun. Let’s do this!”

Ski crouches a little.

_No fighting. At all. End it fast. It's the only way._

Doggo gets ready to strike. “I'm gonna squash you like a flea!”

He forcefully jabs his swords forward. Light blue sword-flashes fly out from them. Fast. Sharp.

Ski bends their knees-

-and clears the attacks.

More flashes. More dodges.

One whizzes by their head. Another past their arm. Some between their legs. Others next to their feet. None hit their body. None hit their soul.

“I see you're finally starting to understand how this works,” says Doggo, somewhat out of breath, “but it's time I brought out the big guns.”

He holds out both of his swords and crosses them over his head. A slightly bigger version of a sword-flash materializes above him.

“You're moving to the grave, human. It's over!”

The flash dives towards Ski.

They look at it, and step to the side.

It breezes by.

They step back in place, but accidentally plant their foot on the cloak they’re wearing.

_!!!_

They feel it stretching, then it’s ripped off their body. It falls to the floor.

Ski stays put.

It's silent for a quarter of a second.

Then the crowd goes _crazy_.

“What the hell is that kid wearing?”

“Oh man, that outfit is sick!”

“Who knew the human was into cosplay?”

“Wait, what's going on?” Doggo’s looking all around. “I can't see, what happened to the human?!”

Nothing serious happened to them. Just an awkward costume change.

Gone are their filthy shirt, pants, and shoes. Now they’re wearing a short, fitted red tunic with two square flaps coming out their lower back, and two _shorter_ square flaps (one with a corner sliced off) coming out from below their waist in the front. Under their tunic is pair of red shorts reaching halfway down their thighs, and on their arms, legs, hands, and feet is a smooth, skin-tight black material.

An emblem comprising of an orb with wings above three triangles (two normal, one inverted) is on their chest, right where the sweatshirt’s face had been. Their half-soul can be seen shining through it.

Their hair grew about half an inch longer. And there isn't just one red streak running through it, but a whole lot more than that.

There's tiny red horns sticking out their head for some reason.

Was that all? No, wait, they also had a translucent pink collar flaring out from their neck. Oh, and there’s a neat little line of loops on their shorts for sheathing their stick.

Fun fact: it’s _actually_ sheathed right now. Hooray.

This is beyond degrading. The crowd is still jeering at Ski, which causes their face to turn as red as their clothes.

 

“Wha-what the hell is going on?” asks Doggo, his voice getting gruffer, eyes still looking every which way. “What did you do, human??”

Ski is standing perfectly still. “You can’t see it? I’m right in front of you.” Though they’re kind of glad he _can’t_ see their costume. Less harassment will keep their mind clear.

“You’re cheating!” says Doggo. “You’re distracting the crowd so you can distract _me_!!”

Ski sighs. “That’s not it at all…”

“You _fiend_! You’re messing up the most important battle in the history of monster-kind!”

“I’m not, I’m just-!”

Doggo suddenly stands up straight, a mocking expression on his face. “Alright, then,” he says, bringing his swords together, blade to blade. “In that case, I’m going to cheat, too.”

Skepticism scrunches up Ski’s face. “Cheat?”

The two swords blend together in a gray light, and elongate to form the _longest_ sword Ski’s ever seen. It’s taller than Doggo.

“Time to saddle up and bring in some _real_ pain,” he says.

Terror replaces the skepticism on Ski’s face. “What???”

“Behold!” Sounding a bit unhinged, Doggo thrusts the longsword into the air. “This is the power that the Ability Enhancing LV Two Ultima Armor suit gives you!! If I didn’t have one on, there’s no way I’d be able to modify my weapons to such a level of perfection! But since I do, I feel stronger than ever!! This is. My. Ultima. Armor!!!”

Damn. His new weapon is gonna complicate things. They need to find a way to end this fast.

And...to be honest, they think they might have found one. It’s a plan, and they’re going for it.

Round two begins.

Doggo uses both of his hands (paws?) to drive the longsword into the ground. “I can’t tell what you’re planning over there, human,” the sword begins to glow gray, “but since you’re not making any _moves_ to fight me, I’m bringing the hurt over to you!!”

The air _hums._ All the hairs on the back of Ski’s neck stand on end.

Then, to their left, right, front, and back, a massive array of light blue sword-flashes blink into existence. The tips are pointed directly at them.

Ski doesn't move.

“Prepare yourself, human,” Doggo tightens his grip on the longsword handle, “for my PET-PAT-POT-PUT!”

He shoves the sword deeper into the earth.

The sword-flashes zoom in for the attack.

The monsters in the crowd go silent.

Ski takes a deep breath.

_Don’t. Move._

And the flashes phase through them. No damage is dealt.

...

Doggo waits. And waits.

And waits.

“Huh?” His ear twitches.“I don’t hear any screaming. Is the human dead?”

A monster from the crowd responds to him. “Naw, they’re still alive, dude!”

Doggo grabs the sides of his head. “Ah, what the hell???!!??!”

And things get real.

“I figured it out a while back,” says Ski, assuming a power stance they saw from a cartoon once. “You can’t see anything that’s not moving.”

Doggo’s dumbfounded.

“And thanks to your obsession with the word ‘move,’ I also figured out that your magic can’t hurt me if I’m standing still.”

Doggo breaks out in a cold sweat, and his expression gradually changes from subtle astonishment to desperate rage.

He rips the longsword out of the ground and starts swinging it around like a madman, generating more sword-flashes and flinging them at Ski.

Doggo is foaming a little at the mouth. “Impossible, impossible, impossible, impossible, impossible, impossible!!!”

Ski, again, is stationary. The flashes, again, pass through their body. “You can't do anything to me. I’ve got you beat.”

An indifferent voice from the other side of the monitor comments on the battle. It belongs to Muffet, the spider girl. She, Alphys, Undyne, and Asriel are seated and watching the display from an all-white room in the castle.

“So the human figured out Doggo’s ability, huh?” She’s sucking on a lollipop. “That doesn’t surprise me since he’s not very good at hiding it. I _am_ kind of liking the human’s clothes, though.”

Alphys is staring at her laptop screen. “It’s power levels lead me to believe that it might be optimized Ultima Armor...”

Asriel raises an eyebrow. “Ah.”

In the square, the robot claps their hands. “Oh!”

In the crowd, Kid tilts his head. “Huuuuuh?” And he jumps into the air. “Wow! I didn’t know Ski was a part of the Royal Guard!”

The frog creeps in.

_-Rrrrriiiibbit-_

_(Yeah, I don’t think they actually are. But if we could manage to sell that outfit they have on, we could get totally rich. So rich! So unbelievably rich!!)_

“Alright,” says Ski, done with all the sword-flashes, “now _I_ get to have some fun!”

Their soul releases a vast amount of sparkling red energy, and their costume, in return, gives off a faint pink glimmer. Dozens of yellow stars twinkle around their body.

They’re ready to move.

Ski leaps past the oncoming sword-flashes. They extend their hand towards a spazzing Doggo.

They put their ultimate plan into action, and announce the attacks.

_I hope this works!_

“It’s time for a PET!”

They stroke the top of his head. He’s blown away.

“And a PAT!”

They scratch behind his ears. He’s calming down.

“And a POT!”

They rub underneath his chin. He’s absolutely enthralled--kicking his leg and wagging his tail.

He lies down next to Ski’s feet.

“And to top it all off, a PUT.”

Ski has no idea how to execute this last part. The best they can do is sit on their haunches and stroke Doggo’s back through his armor.

It actually _works,_ and he drifts to sleep from the pleasant sensation.

They did it.

The sweatshirt’s voice echoes in their ears.

**_“Let’s hang out in your SPARE time!”_ **

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

From the sidelines, Papyrus looks positively mystified. “DID THAT REALLY JUST HAPPEN???!!?”

At the castle, Undyne’s utterly astounded. “They ended the battle...?!”

Muffet’s marginally bothered. “Peacefully?!”

Alphys adjusts her glasses. “M-maybe their outfit lacked the power to help them fight properly.”

Asriel watches as a single yellow star briefly gleams over the broken red soul. “No,” he says, “they and that outfit have _plenty_ of power.”

Ski is still petting Doggo, who’s way past asleep, and looking pretty adorable, to boot. They’re this close to telling him he’s a good boy, but that would be one of the most awkward things ever done in the history of space and time, so they pass on that.

Also, their soul faded away again. Does it only appear when things get insane, or does it just come and go as it pleases? More questions. No answers.

Ski suddenly feels the urge to look up at the monitor. They turn to face it, and see Asriel’s stern face staring back at them. They’re so ready to formally end the battle, but they don’t want to convey it in a way that sends more guards after them. See, carefully choosing words has never been their strong suit. In fact, at almost every point in their life, they’ve had to abandon a conversation for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time for the wrong reason. It was in their nature. This goat is not someone to mess with, so they need to be mindful of what they say.

There’s also the minor detail that they were really miffed the last time they spoke to him. They were brandishing their stick and walking towards him all angry-like. He surely hasn’t forgotten that. More reason not to mess up.

...You know what? Screw it. They won’t use words at all. Only gestures will bring about peace.

Ski stands up. Meets Asriel’s eyes.

_Here goes nothing._

They make a heart shape with their hands.  

As usual, the crowd goes nuts _._

On the monitor, Undyne is the first to react. _“What?! Oh my god, are you serious? Are you joking? Do you honestly think you can just sit there and mock us like that?!”_

Their real heart drops.

Muffet places a hand on her cheek. _“Oh deary, you really shouldn't have done that.”_

Alphys is sweating and fidgeting with her hands again.

Papyrus attempts to quell the crazed audience members.

The incessant noise causes Ski to cover their flushed face with their hands.

_I BLEW IT I BLEW IT I MADE IT ALL WORSE I_

_“QUIET.”_

Asriel’s command silences the square. Undyne and Muffet stand down. Papyrus falls back. Ski uncovers their face.

 _“Human,”_ he says, cool and collected, _“where did you get your hands on that outfit?”_

A direct question. No gestures can get them out of this one. Time for some bona fide honesty.

_Please don’t let this kill me._

“I got it from the ground.”

Asriel narrows his eyes. _“Really.”_

Ski unsheathes the stick and holds it out at him. “After I fell down here, I woke up with this stick in my hand. It’s got a message on it, too. It says that if I never give up and stay on the right path, I’ll find it all or whatever.”

Asriel does nothing.

“My main goal is to find a way out of here, but now I know that half my soul is missing...and that _you_ know something about it. So please, tell me how to fix my soul, and tell me how to get out of here.”

…

“Tell me what you know... _Asriel Dreemurr_!”

  *****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that's all I have for now. Please please please please tell me how it's going so far. I have a lot planned for this story, and I'd love to write more.


	3. Lionhearted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> long overdue. sorry about that :V

** **

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-TOWN SQUARE OF THE RUINS-**

*****

 

“Tell me what you know... _Asriel Dreemurr_!”

…A palpable silence swirls through the air.

Asriel’s gray-blue eyes bore into Ski’s. No trace of fear can be seen in his stare.

 _“Your name is Ski, I presume?”_ asks Asriel through the monitor, shattering the quiet. _“Very interesting. Now I_ know _you’re the one we’ve been waiting for.”_

Ski doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that Asriel knows their name or the fact that he’s been expecting them to land down here.  

“I knew it…” says Ski, red-faced and tired and struggling to get any words out. “You know something about me after all- _argh_!”

Their legs give out, and they fall to one knee. 

The wings on their red tunic open to reveal two multi-colored eyes. “You need to rest, Ski,” says the sweatshirt-costume.

“You said you needed my soul to activate, right?” Ski winces at the well of pain forming in their chest. “S-So it’s not enough anymore?”

“No, I am afraid not,” she says. “In about five minutes, you will lose consciousness. This would not be an ideal place for that to happen.”

“ _What?!_ Why didn’t you say that before??”

Ski watches the eyes revert to wings, then turns to Asriel once more. He’s still _looking_ at them. Focused. Stern.

Good god, how can he pull off that expression so damn well? It’s unnerving.

And then, a thought.

…Why aren’t there any guards coming after them? They’re in prime form to be whisked away and executed. Are all of them asleep or something? Did they quit?

Oh well. Best to take advantage of this moment.

They hightail it out of the town square and into the streets. They’d pick this conversation up later. _Much_ later, hopefully.

Papyrus calls out to the guards. “I’M NOT SURE WHY WE DIDN’T DO THIS BEFORE, BUT GO! AFTER THEM! DON’T LET THAT PESKY HUMAN ESCAPE!!”

Brilliant blue light shines from the monitor. The guards, along with Papyrus, stop to gaze at its source.

“ _Don’t bother_ ,” says Asriel. 

Papyrus shields his eyes from the light. “BUT LORD ASRIEL-!”

_“They’ll be back eventually. Leave them be for now.”_

The monitor shuts off.

“LORD ASRIEL…” Papyrus lowers his hands. “YOU HAVE _GOT_ TO TEACH ME HOW YOU DO THAT LIGHT TRICK!!”

*****

Asriel retires to his chair by the castle parlor fireplace. The old turtle is waiting at his side, teapot in hand.

“Here’s your tea, kiddo,” says the turtle. “Careful, it’s extra hot today.”

The teacup is filled. Asriel takes a long sip.

“So, the human has an Alpha Robe,” he says.

And a smirk is on his face once more.

** **

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-SOMEWHERE IN THE RUINS-**

*****

The only thing Ski has done since getting out of that town square is drag their feet through their dirt. There’s nowhere for them to go. The flower patch? Doesn’t exist anymore. The stage where the robot was? Too risky, the robot might be there to turn them in to Asriel. The afterlife? Once a tempting offer, but they’re not feeling it today.

So, this is what being at your wit’s end is like. Not a good feeling. What also isn’t a good feeling is the wobbly sensation in their legs, the pool of pain in their chest, and the nasty headache that somehow formed as they stumbled down this random path.

This whole experience could be summed up as a continuing cycle of confusion and physical torment. Yay.

And now they’re having trouble keeping their eyes open. Exhaustion must be kicking in.

They place a hand on the stick sheathed at their side.

_Please, help me out one more time._

And with that, they fall to the ground.

Off in the distance, they hear some voices. Sounds like a conversation is going on.

“Ah! I-It’s that human!”

“Let’s go see!”

They pass out before they can hear the rest.

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-?-**

*****

Ski thinks they can hear something else. It’s a female voice.

“Whoa, this is, like, so freaking weird. What kind of monster even looks like this…?”

They crack open an eye. Everything’s blurry, but they can tell that someone is standing over them. They also notice they’re lying on a flat bed of some sort.

“I bet we can _totally_ make a killing off that sweatshirt they’re wearing. Just _look_ at how red it is.”

Their vision clears up, and they see a full-figured purple cat monster in overalls.

Can’t say they’re surprised. They must be getting used to this.

“Now, how do we get them to take it off…?”

_OHHHHH NOPE, NOPE, I’M OUT._

In a swift motion, Ski hops to their feet (an action that shoves the purple cat away from them and off to the side) and backs up against a wall of the tiny, shabby room they’re in.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” they begin, “b-but this sweatshirt isn’t for sale, p-please don’t kill me for it!”

Wait. If she wanted the sweatshirt, then what about…?

Ski frantically looks around. “Crap, where’s my stick??”

Kid’s next to them now, stick in mouth.

“Heeh ih ih, Skih!”

Ski doesn’t know where in the world Kid came from, but they’re excited to see the stick in one piece, so they take it from his mouth and hold it out in front of them. The saliva is an unwelcome addition, though.

“Be careful, Kid,” says Ski, bringing up their arm to block him from the “assailant.” “I have no idea what she’s planning.”

Kid scurries past their arm and goes to meet the purple cat on the ground. “Geez, Catty, that’s no way to make friends.”

Ski freezes up, drops the stick. “Catty??” Wait, you know this person???”

-

Ski clasps their hands together, as if to literally pray for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to knock you over I really didn’t knowwww…”

The purple cat, or “Catty,” is sitting directly across from Ski, twirling a blue-dyed lock of her black hair, and looking less than enthused. Kid is next to her, his eyes darting between Ski and Catty.

“Jeez,” says Catty, “I’m, like, a really nice person, but even I’m having trouble forgiving you for that one.”

Kid speaks up. “Don’t say that! I was in trouble down at the square and they saved my life!”

Catty’s expression immediately switches to a more excited one. “NO. WAY. You saved our little monster here?” She starts patting Kid on the head. “Well, if that’s the case, I _guess_ we can overlook that little mishap from earlier. He’s, like, always getting into trouble, y’know!”

_Whoa. Forgiven just like that? Really??_

Kid scooches over to Ski. “Sooooo,” he says, “I was telling everybody about how cool it was that I met somebody that can go around beating Royal Guardsmen with just a stick. And to top it all off, you’re a cosplayer, too! Who knew?”

Ski looks mortified. “Enough with the cosplay stuff already! It’s not like that!”

“It’s nothing to be upset about!” Kid assumes a power pose. “Ya gotta embrace it, dude!”

A door to the room opens, and a new monster appears. “LIKE, WHAT IS WITH ALL THE RACKET??!!”

This one is taller, thinner, greener, and could very well be considered an alligator by human standards—except this one is wearing a pink patterned poncho, and has a mop of blonde hair on her head. “If we keep making any more noise, they’ll haul our butts right out the building!” she says. “The tenants around here are strict as hell!”

“Y’know, Bratty,” says Catty, “you’re making a bunch of noise, too.”

The alligator named Bratty playfully sticks her tongue out. “Whoops, guess you’re right.” She then looks over at Ski. “So, Kid, is this, like, the cosplayer you were telling me about?”

Ski wants to die.

Speaking of which…

Why aren’t they dead yet? Weren’t they passed out in the middle of a street? Weren’t they in pain?

Ski pats their body all over, trying to locate any traces of lingering aches. There’s still a bit of discomfort in certain places, but it’s barely noticeable. They feel just fine. What gives?

Somehow, Kid can sense Ski’s concern, and responds accordingly. “That monster crew that jumped you earlier brought you over here! Catty and I were gonna patch you up, but after a while, some of your bruises and scratches started to disappear on their own. We left you on the bed, and eventually, you were good as new!”

Ski grabs at their sweatshirt. “That…that’s been happening a lot lately.”

“Weird,” says Kid. “Anyway, I bet you’re wondering where you are! Can I tell them, Atties?”

Bratty and Catty, who have taken a seat on the floor, look at each other for a second before turning back to face Ski. Catty speaks first. “You saved Kid, so we’re, like, cool, I guess. Bratty, what do you think?”

Bratty grins. “Well, Catty, if they spill any information, we’ll just have to…”

Catty gasps. “We’ll have to…!”

They grasp each other’s hands, smiles wide and eyes bright. “KILL THEM~!”

Ski’s heart crawls right up to their throat.

Kid shakes his head. “No, no, no, Ski will _not_ do that! I’ll just keep it on the down low.” He looks at Ski. “Do you remember that alley we met in? Yeah, so we’re in a building that’s right off that alley. Bratty and Catty run the coolest secret trading business in the entire Underground. My job is to go out, find some junk, bring it back, and then my Atties sell it over here in the Ruins!”

Ski gives an uncertain nod. “Okay…”

Catty pipes up. “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna sell your sweatshirt anytime soon. We’re over that.”

Bratty’s next. “That’s right, Catty. We are _such_ good people, that I doubt you’ll have to worry about us doing you wrong.” She rubs her hands together. “Soooooooo, now that that’s out of the way, I’m, like, super hungry, so let’s go in the other room and eat already! Kid, your little friend can come, too.”

Bratty and Catty lead the way into the next room over. Kid moves to follow behind them, but Ski places a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Kid,” says Ski, “are they okay with me staying here like this?”

 “Yeah, man, of course! Why are you so worried??”

“I’m a stranger! Even worse, I’m a _human_! Monsters are after me!”

Kid looks contemplative. “Ooooh, you’re right…”

_That’s all he has to say?????!!!!_

“Don’t worry, dude, I’m sure you’re safe here! I don’t even think they know you’re human!”

_????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

Catty’s voice rings out from the adjacent room. “OH MY GOD, WOULD YOU GUYS HURRY UP??!!”

Ski and Kid cut their talk short and hurry through the door to where Bratty and Catty are, which is a tiny living room/dining room set-up. Right in the middle of the room is a table stacked with tons of odd-looking food. The smell of it is kind of strange, too.

Kid is jumping up, down, and all around at the sight of it. “YES! Junk food for dinner!”

Ski lets a hushed comment slip past their lips. _“Excuse me, what?”_

Kid pushes a baffled Ski to the table and nudges them to sit down with Bratty and Catty. “Okay,” he says, “you have to dig in! Over there in that pile is a bunch of who-knows-what, and over there in that pile is heaps of who-could’ve-guessed!”

“Oh, don’t listen to him,” says Bratty, already filling a plate with food. “We are, like, _totally_ committed to using the freshest ingredients. No lie.”

Bratty places the plate on the table in front of Kid, and he immediately starts digging in. _Literally_ digging in.

Catty is enjoying her dinner as well. “Also,” she tells Ski with her mouth full, “don’t think we haven’t forgotten your payment for all this food we’re giving you. We’re running a business here!”

Ski has been sitting at the table, blank-faced, and unsure of whether they should try and touch the food or not. Yeah, they know, that’s a really rude thing to do. These people have welcomed them into their home, and have even offered them something to eat. (To be honest, none of this stuff looks edible, but it’s still a kind gesture). Considering everything else that’s happened today, this is a nice turn of events, but they can’t actually appreciate any of it. Wait, scratch that, they _do_ appreciate Bratty and Catty’s hospitality. They just can’t…relax. Let go.

_!_

The most horrible thought creeps into their brain.

What if these two are secretly working for Asriel?

Ski’s stomach starts churning. They never even considered that. This whole thing could be a ploy orchestrated by His Lordship and whoever the hell’s working behind the scenes with him.

The plan probably goes something like this: Bratty and Catty are to take them in, make them feel at home, and maybe even cook them a little meal. Then, when the moment is right, WHAM! The duo knocks them out, carves out their soul, and delivers it straight to Asriel.

That must be what’s going on. It’s all so clear now.

They need to get out of here. Now.

Before Ski can make any sudden movements, Kid leans in to tell them something.

“Don’t worry, Ski. Bratty and Catty aren’t going to hurt you. Loosen up!”

He goes back to eating.

Ski sits there, scratching their neck.

_Wow. What timely reassurance._

They look around the table. Bratty and Catty are gossiping about a terrible client they just dealt with. Kid’s having a wonderful time inhaling his food.

Everything _seems_ fine. Everything _seems_ safe.

Alright then. If things are as good as they appear, then let them have a sign. They’ve asked for one before, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another. All they ask for is something to alleviate their worries. Something to let them know that the world, for the first time, might not be working against them.

Something like-

A door slams open. The entire group turns to look at the new guest.

It’s a dog. A fluffy, white, completely regular dog.

Ski’s heartbeat quickens.

_Oh my god. Ooohhh myyy goooood. It’s…it’s…it’s so cu-_

The dog jumps toward the food pile, lands on it, and starts scarfing it all down.

Kid breaks from eating. “Hey, it’s A-dog!”

Ski can’t believe what they’re seeing. “Yeah, it _is_ a dog…”

Catty slams her hands on the table. “No, it’s _A_ -dog—as in _a_ nnoying, _a_ moral, _a_ nuisance, _a_ pain in my backside!”

She grabs the dog by the collar, yanks it away from the food, and hauls it out an open window.

Ski pulls at their hair. “Oh my god, why did you do that???”

“Relax,” says Bratty, “we’re on the first floor. Also, we’ll see him pretty soon.”

Ski lowers their hands, and hears more chewing. They look over at the pile-

And A-dog is back, devouring the food like nothing ever happened.

Ski cocks their head to the side. “What the…?”

“Told you,” says Catty, pouting, shoving food in her mouth. “That dog is, like, something else.”

That blank expression is back on Ski’s face. Kid decides to take matters into his own hands.

“Eat up, dude!” says Kid, shoving round, crunchy things into Ski’s mouth with his feet. “Don’t just sit there!”

_Oh my god, how is this sanitary??_

_-_

The rest of the evening goes on in a similar fashion.

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-CASTLE RESEARCH FACILITY-**

*****

“The masses…they’re such fools.

“Cowards who refuse to act, and prefer to have their own battles fought for them.

“They were born to be ruled, by myself and the laws of the Underground.”

In a dark corridor underneath the castle, Asriel Dreemurr walks down a catwalk suspended over a lower level, and on this level are monster scientists researching...something. The air is filled with the tiniest of yellow stars.

Behind him is a short, stocky skeleton wearing a long white lab coat and half-rimmed glasses. Only one of his eyes is open, for his left eye is shut tight by a deep scar.

Asriel continues. “Using the Ultima Armor as our weapons, we will carve a path to humanity’s destruction.”

He stops to examine a glass case containing a neat row of LV One Gauntlets. “I’ve always marveled at how one piece of armor can expand to accommodate monsters of any size and shape. All one needs to do is slide on a gauntlet, and a full set of armor will materialize over a monster’s body.”

He moves along. “Normally, a set of armor would only protect the wearer. However, down here in the Underground, the armor we have created is designed to enhance combat ability. They will become the symbol of our salvation of monster-kind.”

Asriel halts in the middle of a rather wide catwalk, and in front of a large, round chamber of sorts. The skeleton waits at attention behind him.

“You members of the D.T. Research Department are at the heart of our conquest. Take care as you work, Sans.”

The skeleton shoves his hands in his pockets, and gives Asriel a half-full smile. “thanks for the words of encouragement, my lord. we’ll, uh, see what we can do.”

Also behind Asriel is Papyrus, who’s standing next to two kneeling dogs, cloaked in all black. They raise their voices to speak.

“We are the Dogi, Dogamy and Dogaressa, members of the Special Canine Unit,” they say together. “We are at your service, my lord.”

Asriel places a hand on his hip. “Are you ready for your next assignment?”

“Yes,” replies Dogamy. “We have been training hard for this moment.”

“That human won’t know what hit them,” says Dogaressa. “They’ll be shaking in their shoes.”

“WE’VE GONE THROUGH A LOT OF TROUBLE TRYING TO SALVAGE THE CANINE UNIT AFTER DOGGO’S LOSS,” says Papyrus. “IF YOU WIN THIS BATTLE, NOT ONLY WILL WE BE ONE SOUL RICHER, BUT YOU’LL ALSO BE PROMOTED TO THE TOP DOGS IN THE UNIT!”

The Dogi respond. “We understand, sir!”

From somewhere above the catwalk, a glass case containing two breastplates each emblazoned with two golden stars descends in front of the Dogi.

“here’s a little gift from lord asriel, “says Sans. “some dog-spec ability-enhancing lv two ultima armor breastplates, hot off the presses.”

Dogamy and Dogaressa take a moment to stare in awe at their new armor, then quickly turn to embrace each other.

“I can’t believe it!” says Dogamy.

“We’re getting our very own LV Two Ultima Armor! We’re so honored!” says Dogaressa.

They pay their respects to Asriel once more. “Thank you, my lord!”

“Just make sure you succeed,” says Asriel.

The Dogi nod their heads. “Without any doubt, my lord!” they say. “We will train even harder, and win this battle at all costs!”

And with that, Asriel exits into another sector of the castle.

The Dogi stand up to retrieve their new armor.

…

Sans steals a glance at Papyrus.

Papyrus is looking in the opposite direction.

Sans sighs, and walks away.

*****

Asriel is back in his favorite chair by the fireplace. The old turtle is already pouring him a hot cup of tea—a special brand a buttercup tea, to be precise.

“So, kiddo,” says the turtle, “why don’t _you_ wear any Ultima Armor? I’m sure you’d be way more qualified than some of the other jokers we’ve got running around here.”

Asriel takes a deep breath. “I have my trident. It is more than enough for me.”

The turtle ponders this for a second. “Then maybe,” he says, “it’s more of a question of the armor being worthy of you! Wa ha!”

Asriel quietly laughs to himself, then takes a sip of his tea.

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-THE ATTIES’ HOME-**

*****

The cramped bedroom is filled with the soft snores of Bratty, Catty, Kid, and A-dog. Ski is resting closest to the wall, with their sweatshirt hanging up on a random loose nail above them.

Ski tightens their hold on their blanket. How did they get mixed up with all these goobers?  Weren't they supposed to leave? If it wasn't for that dog, they'd be way past out of here.

Should they leave while everyone’s asleep? Get out of here and traverse this land alone?

...

Nah. Too dangerous. They'll just consider A-dog the sign they asked for and try to get some rest.

In the meantime...

“Hey, you,” whispers Ski to the sweatshirt, “are you awake?”

No response.

Ski frowns. “I wish I knew what you really are…Orlite.”

*****

**-THE PAST -**

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-PATH OUTSIDE THE RUINS-**

*****

_“There is not much time! Do not be scared! Put me on, quickly!”_

_The energy dissipates, the dust clears, and all that remains is Ski dressed in some red fantasy-inspired get-up. What could they even call this thing? A tunic? A robe??_

_“O-oh my god!” says Ski. “What kind of crazy outfit_ are _you??”_

_The shapes on the sweatshirt-costume’s face have shifted around to form a different pattern consisting of triangles, wings and an orb. “This is what I am, my child.”_

_“Okay, that doesn’t answer my question!” Ski starts yanking at the outfit. “Come on, get off me. I didn’t ask for this! Come on, come on, come on, COME ON-!!”_

_A particularly powerful yank launches Ski into the air and right into a wall of the cave._

_Ski can only watch as pieces of rock fall around them from the impact. “How the heck did that happen?”_

_“This is our power,” says the sweatshirt-costume. “I awakened when I felt your presence. Under the right circumstances, we can activate that power together, you and I.”_

_Ski’s mouth goes dry. “W-What are you, really?”_

_“I do not know,” she says._

_“What? How can you not know? You just told me how to activate you.”_

_There is a short pause before she responds. “I can explain the current circumstances, but there is much I cannot tell you, for I do not have all the answers. My memory? There are gaps in mine. I apologize.”_

_“Well, then, what_ do _you remember?” asks Ski._

_“I know someone created me, but beyond that, there is not much I can offer. I feel as though I may have seen them, if only for a brief second, but not enough to form a mental image. Once again, I apologize.”_

_Ski wants to respond to that, but they’re getting sick of being stuck in a cave wall. “Hey, how do we get down from here? We’re really high up.”_

_“Oh,” says the sweatshirt-costume, “you should be able to fall right down. No harm will come to you. I promise.”_

_Ski wiggles around a bit and dislodges themself from the wall. They fall, but quickly land on the ground with no trouble at all._

_“Oh man,” says Ski. “No broken bones. No pain, either…”_

_“As I said, no harm will come to you,” says the sweatshirt-costume. “This is our power.”_

_Ski looks up at the opening to the Underground._

_And the best idea they’ve ever had pops into their head._

_“Hey, hey. Do you think if I jump high enough, I can make it through that opening up there and get out??”_

_“No.”_

_Ski blinks. “No?”_

_“I may not remember much, but I do know there is a barrier keeping all monsters from escaping to the surface. Anything may enter. Nothing may leave._

_The largest of lumps starts to block Ski’s throat. That wasn’t what they wanted to hear at all._

_They fall to their knees._

_“So it’s hopeless? I’m trapped?”_

_“No.”_

_Ski blinks again. “No??”_

_“Take me with you. I can help.”_

_“But you just told me nothing can leave once it lands down here!”_

_“Yes, that may be true, but I think I remember something. It was told to me a long time ago: ‘Staying determined is the key.’”_

_Ski’s eyes widen. “Did you just say…Oh my god, that sounds just like-!”_

_“Wait, what is it?” she asks._

_  
Ski gets up from the ground and searches around for the stick. In two seconds, they locate it, pick it up, and read the words on its side._

_“Is anything wrong, my child?”_

_“Ah, it’s nothing. My name is Ski, by the way.” A pause. “Do you think we can actually get out of here? If we, y’know, stay determined?”_

_“Yes, but I must say, you are taking this news quite well. Many other creatures would completely fall apart after hearing that they are trapped here. I am impressed.”_

_Ski scratches their head. “It’s kind of weird to admit this, but I’m pretty used to bad news. Truth is, I don’t like it when bad stuff gets me down for too long, so having a backup plan to lift me up is always a good thing. If there’s another way out, then that’s all I need to hear.”_

_“That is very mature of you, Ski.”_

_They blush a little at that. “I-It doesn’t mean I’m good at staying positive.” They glance over the words on the stick once more. “But I want to get better.”_

_Ski looks up at the light pouring in through the opening._

_“Hey, sweatshirt,” they ask, “do you have a name?”_

_The question seems to startle her. “Oh, why…yes. Yes, I think so. I must have one, I just know it. Please give me a moment.”_

_There’s silence for five seconds._

_“Orlite. Orlite is my name.”_

_“Oh, so that’s it?” asks Ski._

_“The memory is faint, but I am sure that is my true name. Please call me that, if you wish.”_

_“Okay. Got it.”_

_Ski turns to face the ground-level exit to the cave. They then point the stick towards it._

_“Looks like that’s the way out after all,” says Ski._

_“Before we depart,” says Orlite, “I would like to point out that I am sensing a great deal of power within that stick you are holding.”_

_“Really?” Ski waves the stick around. “So this thing gets an upgrade when I wear you, too? Interesting. I’ll take note of that. Ready to go now?_

_“Yes,” she says, “let us find a new way out.”_

_“Good. Hopefully I can find a cloak along the way or something.”_

_“Why would you need a cloak? Ski, a-are you embarrassed to wear me? I bet you look darling in this outfit.”_

_“N-No! I’m not_ embarrassed _, I just don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention! I swear!”_

_Their answer seems to appease her. “Alright…I guess we should get moving, then.”_

_Ski nods, then bolts for the cave exit. “Here we come…Asriel Dreemurr!”_

*****

**-THE PRESENT-**

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-THE ATTIES’ HOME-**

*****

“Whooooaaaaa, Ski, wake up, we gotta get moving!!!”

The sound of Kid’s voice slowly rouses Ski from their slumber. They’re surprised they got any sleep at all, given how worried they were that guards were going to bust in and tear out their soul in the middle of the night.

“Come ooooon, eat some breakfast and let’s goooo!!”

Ski's thinking they should probably leave Kid behind, but something inside them forces them to get dressed and follow him anyway. 

*****

Ski and Kid are walking down a particularly foggy part of town. The both of them don’t seem to be going anywhere in particular, though.

“Kid, what exactly are we doing? Shouldn’t we be hiding from the guards?”

“I don’t know. I just felt like getting up and going for a walk.” Kid turns to look at Ski. “Whoa, dude, what kind of face is _that_??”

Little did Kid know that in this quirky world of magic and monsters, the human named Ski had a magic trick of their very own. See, when Ski hears a comment that’s too much for them to handle, whether it be silly or straight-up incomprehensible, they shut their eyes and flatten their mouth to such an extent that it looks like they’ve been replaced with horizontal lines. _Unimpressed_ horizontal lines.

It’s a pretty neutral expression.

“Come on, man," says Kid, "you’re starting to freak me out. Quit it!”

The magic trick is finished, and Ski’s face returns to normal.

It’s quiet for some time.

Ski looks around at the broken-down buildings covered in vines. “This place sure has seen better days.”

Kid was somehow walking and sleeping at the same time, but Ski’s comment wakes them up. “That’s because the nicer places to live are outside the Ruins! Top members of the Royal Guard live in the Capitol, while us non-members get to live in this gross place.”

“Your status in the Royal Guard determines where you live??” asks Ski.

“Yeeeeeup! That’s the way it works! Mhmm! Oh, hey, that reminds me! Ski, my Atties said that if you need a-!”

A line of snowballs smacks Kid right in the face.

“-place to-“

Another barrage of snowballs hits him.

“-stay then it’s-”

And more snowballs.

“-cool if-”

More snowballs.

“-you stay-”

Snowballs.

“-with us-”

Snowballs!

“-if you want!”

Kid’s face is covered in bumps from the onslaught.

Ski turns around to face the source of the attack. “What the heck was that?!”

Two dog monsters in gray armor (with two golden stars on the breastplates) stand before the duo. Each dog is also wielding a _huge_ axe.

“Well,” says one of them, male, “I assume this is the human that Lord Asriel told us about.”

“Indeed,” says the other, female, “they fit the description perfectly.”

 They speak together. “We are the Dogi, members of the Special Canine Unit, and No. 1 Nose Nuzzle Champions of ’98. We have been sent to eradicate you, human, and to harvest your soul.”

The male introduces himself. “I am Dogamy.”

Next is the female. “And I am Dogaressa.”

“Pleased to meet you,” they both say.

Ski takes a step back. “Wh-Why did you attack Kid just now?”

“It’s obvious,” says Dogamy, “This child has broken several laws regarding interactions with humans. As a result, we have decided to purge him for his continued disobedience.”

“First you try to boil him,” says Ski, “and now you’re trying to beat him to death??”

“No one said anything about death, human,” says Dogaressa. “To ‘purge’ is simply to remind this monster child of his roots, and to have him come to his senses on whether fraternizing with the enemy is truly a good idea.”

Ski is starting to get flustered. “K-Kid has nothing to do with this. I ran into _him_! He’s completely innocent!”

“Ah, well,” says Dogamy, “I guess that means we’ll have to purge you first, human. Begin, dear.”

Dogaressa waves an armored hand into the air, and a dozen snowballs appear. She flicks her pointer finger, and the snowballs hurtle towards Ski and Kid.

A familiar flash of bright light shines from Ski’s chest, and their broken red soul is visible once more. They stand perfectly still, brace themself for the oncoming snowballs, but Kid, right in the nick of time, pushes them out of the line of fire. They both tumble to the ground.

“Oh,” says Dogaressa, “that was unexpected.”

Ski hurries to their feet. “Kid, what are you doing??”

“What am _I_ doing??” asks Kid, still trying to bring himself to his own feet. “Saving _you_ , dummy! Why would you just stand there and let the snowballs hit you?!”

Ski pauses. Truth be told, they were expecting all that stuff to pass through them and leave them unharmed, just like in the last battle with Doggo. It made sense. The rules of the fight wouldn’t just change like that, would they?

Wait a minute…

That entire battle back then was about movement. Doggo made sure (probably subconsciously) that everyone knew his weakness had to do with stationary objects. That was the whole point. But the Dogi haven’t said a word about how they approach combat. All they did was generate snowballs with magic and throw them at Ski. Not a peep about special maneuvers, secret spells, or even general strategies.

Each fight may very well be different from the last.

Also, a bonus: the snowballs the Dogi created actually _hit_ Kid—as in _made contact with his face_. Who’s to say the same won’t happen to Ski?

No, no, that can’t happen. Doggo’s sword-flashes only pierced their soul, and any _physical_ damage was just an indirect result of those attacks.

_So then..._

What if there are different types of attacks, and what if the one headed for Ski was meant to hurt them for real?

With a load groan, Ski slaps the side of their head. “Argh, I’m such an idiot!”

  
“Aw, Ski,” says Kid, a little sullen, “don’t say that about yourself. You’re better than that.”

Kid’s unexpected compliment alarms them.

“D-Doesn’t matter,” says Ski, shaking it off and stepping in front of Kid to protect him. “You need to get out of here. Now!”

Ski turns around, and finds that Kid is already quite a distance away. “Thanks a bunch, Ski, you’re a life saver, good luck, okay, bye!”

Kid turns to leave, but as soon as he takes a step, he trips and falls on his face. This doesn’t seem to faze him, as he gets back up, shakes his head, and continues on his merry way.

“Sooooo,” says Dogamy, “does this mean we’re fighting only you?”

Well, Ski does owe Kid for dinner and a bed. Guess they’re fighting after all.

“No reply?” asks Dogaressa. “Well, if you think you’re hot stuff just because you got to play hero and beat Doggo without actually fighting him, think again!”

Ski pulls out the stick from their back pocket and points it at the Dogi. “We’re ending this peacefully. Let’s go, Orlite!”

…

…

…?

Ski tugs on the sweatshirt. “Hey, Orlite, come on, we have to transform now. What’s up, what’s the matter? Hey? Hellooo? Orlite??”

No response.

Dogamy and Dogaressa have a pretty prominent _What the actual hell-_ expression on their faces.

Dogamy speaks first. “The human…is talking to their clothes.”

Dogaressa responds. “We haven’t even started, and I am already disappointed.”

The Dogi hold out their axes. “ _Die!_ ”

Ski turns back to the dog duo. “Wait, hold on, I’m not rea-!”

Dozens, no, hundreds of snowballs are heading for Ski.

And they all phase through them, right through their soul. Ski is knocked back, _way back_ , until they land headfirst into a stream of water. The current carries them for a few seconds before they’re dragged down a hole, presumably into the Underground sewage system.

“Should we do something, sweetheart?” asks Dogaressa.

“No, leave them be for now,” says Dogamy.  “We have to prepare for the next phase.”

*****

Ski quickly floats downstream. They turn corner after corner after corner in the dim, pipe-infested, but surprisingly not smelly area until they finally wash up on a dry platform, unconscious.

The rectangular robot emerges from the shadows.  
“TSK, TSK, TSK,” he says, “POOR HUMAN.”

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-SERIOUSLY, WHERE IS SKI NOW?-**

*****

Ski, once again, wakes up to find themself in a completely new place. From what they can tell, they’re lying on a couch, they’re covered in a blanket, and they’re in some sort of square-shaped room. Also, the room is pink. _Exceptionally_ pink. And covered ceiling-to-floor in posters.

“WELCOME BACK TO THE LAND OF THE LIVING, DARLING.”

Ski sits upright, and examines the rectangle-shaped figure that addressed them. It’s peering through a window, except a thick pink curtain is _blocking_ the window. What exactly is it doing, then?

“Wait,” says Ski, rubbing their eyes, “aren’t you the robot that did the show yesterday?”

“THAAAT’S RIGHT!” the robot points at them with a goofy gloved finger. “I’M THE UNDERGROUND’S MOST FABULOUS ENTERTAINER, _METTATON_!”

  
Ski says nothing.

“YOU HAD AN EXTRAORDINARY DAY, MY FRIEND. I HOPE YOU TOOK A FEW NOTES AFTER THAT HORRIFIC BEATING.”

Still kind of dazed from being asleep, Ski looks down at their torso and sees- wait, why are they only in a camisole? Where’s their red and blue shirt? Where’s Orlite??

Their eyes dart around the room until they finally see the sweatshirt hanging up on a cupboard.

Ski’s cheeks turn all types of red. “Oh my god, did you change my clothes????”

“OF COURSE I DID. YOUR SWEATSHIRT WAS WET, SO I HUNG IT UP TO DRY. THAT STRIPED SHIRT, IN ADDITION TO BEING QUITE HIDEOUS, WAS ALSO DISGUSTING AND DIRTY, SO I THREW IT OUT. YOU HAD NOTHING LEFT TO COVER YOURSELF, SO I DONATED A NICE NEW BLACK CAMISOLE TO YOU, AND I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW, THOSE THINGS AREN’T CHEAP! AND DON’T WORRY, MY SIGHT PROCESSORS WERE TURNED OFF WHILE I PUT IT ON YOU, SO NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE WAS REVEALED TO ME.”

Ski covers their face with both their hands.

_Is this the way to hell?_

“SO NOW THAT WE GOT THAT TAKEN CARE OF, IT’S TIME WE WENT…SOUL-SEARCHING.”

Ski did _not_ like the sound of that.

Mettaton wheels in closer. This is so not good. They had to get out of here, fast.

He pulls out something from behind his back. It looks like a… hand-held…car vacuum cleaner? With a monitor and flashing lights on top?

“W-Wait, please!” says Ski. “What are you doing?? Stay away from me!”

He’s pointing that thing right at them. “MIND IF I EXTRACT SOME DATA FROM YOU?”

Should they shout? Make a break for it? Oh man, they’re running out of time and that vacuum-gun-looking thing is about to touch their chest and-!

It touches their chest.

Ski shuts their eyes and holds their breath.

Mettaton presses a button on the handle, and the machine lets out a _beeeeeep_. A message then pops up on the monitor.

“20% D.T. Concentration Detected”

“OH, THAT IS JUST TERRIBLE. HOW CAN YOU EXPECT TO ACTIVATE YOUR OUTFIT WITH SUCH DISMAL LEVELS LIKE THAT?”

Ski takes a much-needed breath. So that thing wasn’t going to kill them. Nice to know.

“ALLOW ME TO SHOW YOU WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOUR SWEATSHIRT GETS THE PROPER NOURISHMENT IT NEEDS!”

Mettaton pulls something _else_ from behind his back: a syringe filled with glittering yellow…stuff. He presses down on the plunger, and shoots the whatever-it-is out the needle and onto Orlite.

She briefly glows bright pink, and she wakes up.

“Ah!” says Orlite. “What is going on! What _was_ that? I want more of it!” She’s flailing her sleeves around, face on the front back to resembling a cartoon animal.

Ski’s pretty annoyed. “Well, look who’s up.”

Orlite ceases her flailing. “Ski?”

“Of course it’s me!” says Ski. “Why didn’t you transform back there and help me??”

“ALL RIGHT, I’M GOING TO NEED EVERYONE TO CALM DOWN. WHAT I’M ABOUT TO SHOW YOU MIGHT CHANGE YOUR LIVES FOREVER.”

Mettaton lifts his hands into the air, and the whole room is engulfed in a flash of pink light. 

It takes about three seconds for the light to fade, but once it does, Ski cannot _believe_ what they are seeing.

It’s…Mettaton, except he isn’t a blatant rectangle anymore. He’s more of a humanoid glamorous rock star. Metallic hair swooped over one eye, a floating heart in the middle of his torso, and the most impressive set of hips Ski has ever laid eyes on. Also, those pink high-heeled boots deserve a mention. Who _was_ this creature? And why is the room suddenly so much pinker than before?

“I know,” says Mettaton, striking a pose that no human could ever pull off. “My real form blows away all of your expectations!”

Well, that’s just silly—Ski doesn’t have expectations anymore. They were all broken when they met that frog in the alley. They’re done with that.

Mettaton is already in another pose. “In any case, now do you understand?”

“What are you talking about?” asks Ski. “I’m still confused.”

Different pose. “I’m talking about your Alpha Robe. The amount of D.T. in your body wakes it up.”

“I have no clue what an Alpha Robe is. Do you mean my sweatshirt over there?”

Mettaton gives a wink. “Coooooorrect!”

There’s a rumble, and a small, round stage emerges from the ground, right underneath Mettaton. He doesn’t seem surprised. This whole thing must have been planned.

A new pose. “The Alpha Robes were created a millennium ago by an unknown person. They’re more powerful than any piece of Ultima Armor, and the person that masters wearing it will be the one with a chance at beating Asriel Dreemurr.”

Ski huffs out a sigh. “Alright, could you tell me exactly how you know these things? And whose side are you on in all this?”

Mettaton keeps coming up with fresh new poses every four seconds. “First, prove to me that you are worthy of such an answer. Then I’ll give it to you.”

_Nothing is ever easy around here._

“Ok, so how do I prove myself?”

“Beat the Dogi, simple as that. If you can’t master your Alpha Robe and defeat them,” he points a finger at Ski,” then you don’t stand a chance against Asriel.”

A chipper ring tone (it sounds a lot like that game show tune they heard yesterday) starts going off somewhere in the room. Mettaton hears this, and poofs back to his original form. The stage retracts into the floor.

“WELL, IT LOOKS LIKE MY SHOW’S ABOUT TO START IN HOTLAND. I’D BETTER GET MOVING.”

Ski counts this as the perfect time to put on Orlite, so they do just that.

“OH, GOODNESS, I ALMOST FORGOT! I NEED YOU TO DO SOMETHING FOR ME!”

Mettaton slips past Ski and heads straight for a closet on the other side of the room. He immediately begins rummaging through it, but it doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for.

He pulls out what appears to be a wooden box.

“YOUR D.T. LEVELS WERE QUITE ABYSMAL, SO I’D LIKE YOU TO PICK AN ITEM FROM THIS BOX TO HELP WITH THAT.”

Mettaton wheels over to where Ski is and opens the box for them. Inside is an assortment of all kinds of things: a knife, a ribbon, and a bandanna; some ballet shoes, an old tutu, and a notebook; a dirty pair of glasses, a burnt-to-hell pan, and a…gun? What? _Gun???_ There’s a cowboy hat in there, too, they didn’t want to pass that up, but is the gun really necessary for this?

Ski studies the objects in front of them, twirling their red lock of hair as they do so, and quickly realizes that something looks off about that bandanna—almost like there’s another thing underneath it. Ski goes to pick it up.

“OH, THE MANLY BANDANNA IS AN EXCELLENT CHOICE! SEE, THE WHOLE ‘MANLINESS’ GIMMICK COMES FROM-“

“No,” says Ski, “I was just lifting it up.”

“OH.”

Once the bandanna has been lifted, Ski’s eyes fall upon what could easily be considered the coolest thing in the entire box.

A pink, fingerless glove with a large black circle on the back of the hand. It also has a dashed blue circle encircling the black circle.

_Man, that’s confusing._

“AH, _THERE’S_ THE TOUGH GLOVE. I WAS WONDERING WHAT HAD HAPPENED TO IT. PERHAPS IT HAD GONE OFF ON ITS OWN TO LOCATE ITS MISSING FINGERS, OR MAYBE IT WAS LONELY, AND LONGED FOR A HAND TO COVER.”

_This robot is a piece of work._

“WHATEVER IT MAY HAVE BEEN, I RECOMMEND YOU TAKE IT. HARNESSING D.T. ENERGY WILL BE MUCH EASIER WITH THIS ON YOUR HAND. FOCUS ALL OF YOUR POWER INTO IT, AND THE TRANSFORMATION WILL OCCUR.”

Ski slides the glove onto their left hand. It’s a perfect fit.

“Hey, what _is_ D.T. energy, anyway?” asks Ski.

“WE CAN TALK ABOUT THAT ANOTHER TIME,” says Mettaton. “BUT FOR NOW, DEFEAT THE DOGI. ONCE YOU DO, ALL THE ANSWERS YOU SEEK WILL BE PROVIDED. NOW, GET OUT THERE AND RUN THAT CROWD WILD!”

Ski clenches their gloved hand into a fist. “Whatever you say.”

*****

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-TOWN SQUARE OF THE RUINS-**

*****

Someone unfamiliar with life in the Underground would think winter has come early by looking at all the snow in the town square. Well, the joke’s on them, ‘cause it ain’t winter at all. The Dogi have used their magic to fill the entire area in a blanket of white in order to prepare for the upcoming confrontation with the human.

How will they deal with them exactly? A clash of weapons? A battle to the death?

It will be none of those things.

Instead, the outcome will be decided by a simple game.

A game of Ball.

In the middle of the square is a sectioned-off area of snow, which will be known as the court. In the middle of the court is a wide, “S”-shaped area of dark, purplish snow where the ball must travel down. This will be called the course. Some parts of the dark snow are replaced with tiles of ice, and at the end of the “S” is a hole where the ball will go.

But only if one plays the game right.

Dogamy and Dogaressa are practicing with a large snowball, kicking it to each other to bring it closer to the goal. In only two passes, they evade the ice and land the ball in the hole. A loud _ding!_ rings throughout the square, and an orange flag rises from within the hole.

“WOWIE!!” Papyrus claps his hands. “FIFTEEN SECONDS! THAT’S EVEN FASTER THAN YOUR USUAL TIME!!”

“Thank you, sir,” says Dogamy.

“It’s all because of the dog-spec Ultima Armor we got from Lord Asriel,” says Dogaressa.

The both of them speak. “Together, we will eradicate that human.”

_“Oof! Ow! Ack!”_

Papyrus and the Dogi turn their attention to the monster making all that racket. It’s Kid, and he’s tethered to a pole in the middle of the snow. Magically produced snowballs are appearing out of thin air, careering towards him with great speed, and smacking him in the face.

Papyrus appears to be uncertain about the whole thing. “COULD SOMEONE EXPLAIN TO ME WHY WE KEEP PUTTING THIS CHILD THROUGH SO MUCH PHYSICAL DISTRESS?”

“The answer is simple,” says Dogaressa. “We are reminding him of the ramifications of associating with humans, and to do that, we must ‘purge’ those thoughts from his mind.”

“HMMMM…I CAN’T IMAGINE HIM HAVING ANY MIND LEFT AFTER ALL THIS ‘PURGING’ IS DONE…” says Papyrus.

Kid keeps getting walloped. _“Ow! Oww! Owww!”_

The snowballs continue, until-

_-thunkthunkthunkthunkthunkthunk!-_

Kid, whose eyes were scrunched shut, opens them when he doesn’t feel anything strike his head. The first thing he sees is Ski holding a trash can lid, which is covered in dents—supposedly from the snowballs it blocked.

“Oh man! Ski! Hi! I was wondering where you went!” says Kid, looking mighty happy to see his rescuer.

The Dogi and Papyrus step forward.

“OH, HO,” says Papyrus, “SO THE HUMAN ARRIVES.”

Dogamy and Dogaressa close in. “Are you ready for another beating, human?” they ask.

“No, thanks.” Ski tosses the lid away. “I’m making sure we do this right. Let’s go, Orlite!”

Ski brings up their gloved hand and beats it against their chest. In the black circle on the back of the glove, an image of a red half heart appears. The dashed blue circle remains the same.

The transformation begins.

In a flurry of yellow stars, Orlite _expands_ to form the face of a large, horned, feral-looking creature. It roars, swallows Ski whole, then quickly shrinks down to fit around their body, leaving them in their “ridiculous battle outfit.”

The only thing that’s changed is that the red half heart and dashed blue circle are now on the back of their left hand.

The whole thing takes about three seconds, and leaves Ski feeling a little breathless.

“Wow,” says Dogamy, “that looked real painful. Still certain you can win after changing into a costume like that?”

Through uneven breaths, Ski manages to reply. “It’s…it’s not a costume!”

 “Could’ve fooled us,” says Dogaressa. “Now, let’s go, sweetheart. Begin the ‘110,000,000 Snowball Assault!’”

_The what._

With a lift of the hand, Dogamy wills countless magical snowballs into existence.

Ski decides its time for a quick-thinking session. These snowballs can either physically touch them or pass right through them. One attack can be blocked. The other can’t. There’s no way to tell them apart.

They sigh, and unsheathe the stick from their side. A heavy rock of dread sinks in their stomach.

_I’m so screwed._

After a moment, Dogamy throws his hand down. The snowballs rush towards Ski.

They crouch down low. A flash of white light, and their broken red soul returns once more.

_Please, please, pleeeaaase don’t phase through!_

Ski starts swinging, and successfully knocks back every snowball that comes their way—which, by way of calculation, adds up to a whole hell of a lot of them _._

They're pretty impressed with themself.

_Oh man, it actually worked…_

“No, Dogamy!” cries Dogaressa. I told you not to use matter-based attacks!”

Dogamy retaliates. “It shouldn’t matter what type of attack you use! Soul-based or matter-based, the human gets hurt no matter what!”

Dogaressa groans. “It would have been harder for them to dodge a soul-based one! We already talked about this!”

Papyrus claps his hands together. “OKAY, OKAY, I THINK THAT’S ENOUGH YELLING. HOW ABOUT WE ALL FORGET ABOUT WHAT JUST HAPPENED AND PLAY THE GAME NOW?”

The Dogi immediately stop their fussing.

“Wait,” says Ski, still a tad shaky from their stroke of dumb luck. “What game?”

“WELL, HUMAN, YOU’RE ALREADY STANDING ON THE COURSE! NYEH HEH HEH!”

Ski looks down at the space below their feet, and sees that they’re standing on some dark purple snow.  Then they look around, and their eyes take in the “S”-shaped layout of said snow, the tiles of ice imbedded in it, and the hole at the very end.

“Hold on a minute,” says Ski, “this isn’t a fight anymore??”

“OF COURSE, IT’S STILL A FIGHT!!” says Papyrus. “IT JUST INVOLVES LESS SCREAMING AND LESS IMMEDIATE DEATH!”

Ski wrings the stick in their hands. “I…I’m not sure if-”

“No, wait, they’re totally gonna win!”

Kid is suddenly standing next to Ski, untied from the pole and wearing a comically serious expression on his face. He then briefly kicks one leg up into the air.

From above, a yellow spotlight shines on him and Ski.

“Ski can do it! They can do it! They can do it, and I can prove it!”

The Dogi look less than impressed. Papyrus, on the other hand, is _so_ confused that he develops a case of “bug-eyes.”

Kid takes a deep breath before beginning the most visually stimulating rant anyone in the area has ever seen. “If Ski hadn’t stepped in and saved me yesterday, I’d be totally dead right now! So even though they _technically_ have no experience with the game, they can totally get out there and win the game of friendship! And everyone on the planet knows that if you win with friendship, you win at life!!”

Ski looks as bug-eyed as Papyrus.

Kid continues, but first delivers a fierce glare to the Dogi. “But if you guys are gonna go through with this, then you leave them no choice. Ski will win! Y’hear?! Even in the game, even in the game, even in the game, THEY’LL WIN!!”

…

It’s silent. Ski needs to sit down after watching that spectacle.

“Hmph,” says Dogaressa, twirling her axe, “if the human thinks they can defeat us, the reigning champions of the Ball Game, to a game of Ball…”

Dogamy finishes it off. “…then it’s _their_ funeral!”

The Dogi bring the blades of their axes together, and give Ski their self-assured smiles.

Ski, still reeling from…everything, feels a light tap on their shin. They look over, and find Kid beaming a big smile at them.

“Good luck, Ski! Knock their socks off!”

Kid’s vibrant kindness causes a violent shudder to run down Ski’s spine, and their mind starts to short-circuit.

They turn to face him.

What is this monster’s actual _problem_?

He’s been hung upside down, tied up, beaten with snowballs. His life has been in constant danger since he ran into them. He could very well die at any moment.

So why in the world is he still here? Why is he hanging around them? Why won’t he just leave?

It can’t be because of this friendship nonsense he brought up. There’s no way that’s the case. They’ve been keeping him at arm’s length this entire time. That’s the way it had to be.

But no.

He’s here, standing next to them. Talking to them. Rooting for them.

None of this was supposed to happen. They set up new rules for themselves just so they could avoid a situation like this. If it keeps going, it will only lead to more _mistakes_.

They can put a stop to this, though. They can tell him to go away, to get lost, to never come back.

To stay far away from them.

…

But he’s still _smiling_ at them.

Ski looks over at the Dogi and Papyrus. The three of them have already left to set up for the game.

They turn back to Kid, who’s wide-eyed and unsuspecting of a thing. The sight makes their stomach churn with too many conflicting emotions, and they’re running out of time to sort it all out, so for now, they’ll have to let it go.

“Alright then,” says Ski, forcing out a smile, “I gotcha.”

They’d tell him after the game.

“Let’s do this.”

-

“Huh?”

Cheering monsters have come out of nowhere to surround the Ball court on all sides. Word must travel fast around these parts.

Papyrus is sitting in some tennis referee-looking chair on the sidelines. The Dogi and Ski are standing off to the sides as well.  

Strangely, Ski’s soul has also disappeared from inside their chest.

“THE RULES OF THE GAME,” says Papyrus as he reads out of a tiny book, “ARE SIMPLE: GET THE BALL IN THE HOLE. THERE WILL BE THREE ROUNDS, AND IN EACH OF THESE ROUNDS, YOU WILL HAVE ONLY ONE CHANCE TO REACH THE GOAL. AFTER THAT, THE NEXT TEAM GETS A TURN. THE WAY YOU PLAY AND THE AMOUNT OF TIME IT TAKES DETERMINES YOUR SCORE. AND, IF YOU GET TIRED, WE’VE ASKED THE NICE CREAM GUY TO OFFER YOU SOME REFRESHMENTS FOR REENERGIZING PURPOSES. WAVE TO THE NICE CREAM GUY, EVERYONE!”

In his own little corner of the town square, a blue bunny monster leaning against an ice- no, wait, _nice_ cream cart, waves at the crowd. They all wave back, the Dogi and Ski included.

Papyrus continues. “OKAY, WHO’S GOING FIRST?”

Kid’s hopping up and down in the crowd.  “Wooooooo! Goooooo, Ski! You got this, dude! Knock ‘em out!”

“Wait a moment,” says Dogamy. “I’d like to reaffirm the wager of this game. If the human wins, they keep their life. If _we_ win, however, we take their soul. Sound good?”

Ski prays to some supernatural force that the question they’re about to ask doesn’t somehow offend the two dogs. “W-Why are we settling this over a game?”

“We saw your battle with Doggo,” says Dogaressa, “and agreed that there’s no way we can let something like that happen again. So, to destroy any possibility of you ending a battle peacefully, we decided to defeat you over a game of Ball. Simple as that.”

Ski prays a little harder for this next one. “Isn’t this game still peaceful in a way?”

Dogamy answers. “You are correct, but the peaceful outcome of the last fight took Doggo by surprise. In this one, we will not use brute strength, but skill, to defeat you. ‘Peaceful’ is already part of the package.”

_Okay, I still don’t get it._

“Point taken,” says Ski, preferring to skip over the explanation.

Papyrus blows on his whistle. “OKAY, DOES _ANYONE_ WANT TO GO FIRST?”

Dogamy points his axe at Ski. “If the human wants to go first, it’s fine by us.”

Ski looks over at the snowball they’re supposed to be using. It’s big. Really big. Like _up to their chest_ big.

“Uhh, I’ll pass, thank you,” says Ski. “You can go.”

Dogaressa chuckles. “If you so incline. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

The Dogi’s axes disappear from their hands, and they both step onto the court. Dogaressa walks over to the large snowball. Dogamy places himself farther along the curve of dark snow.

Ski holds up a hand. “Wait, wait, is there any reason why they’re on a team and I’m by myself?”

Dogamy clicks his tongue. “Those are the rules, human. Accept them or forfeit the match.”

Ski says nothing else.

“REMEMBER,” says Papyrus, “THE TIMER STARTS ONCE YOU TOUCH THE BALL, SO BEGIN WHENEVER YOU’RE READY! ABSOLUTELY NO RUSH! WE’RE ALL HERE TO HAVE FUN!”

The Dogi nod to each other.

And Dogaressa kicks the snowball.

The whole thing is incredible to watch. Quickly and efficiently, Dogaressa guides the ball to Dogamy, who is already at the first curve. She passes it to him, flawlessly, and he takes it from there, kicking it to the second curve and avoiding every tile of ice along the way. While he’s doing that, Dogaressa sprints ahead and waits at the curve for Dogamy to arrive. In no time at all, he does, and with one final pass, Dogaressa gains control of the ball. She maneuvers around the ice tiles, takes it all the way to the end, and punts it into the hole. There’s a _ding!,_ and an orange flag springs up from the hole. The crowd goes wild.

Papyrus checks his stopwatch. “FOURTEEN SECONDS WITH AN ORANGE FLAG! FIVE POINTS TO THE DOGI!”

Ski scratches their head. They had to admit, that was really cool. In fact, they feel like they could probably die from the sheer amount of cool they just witnessed. But in reality, they _will_ die because the Dogi are going to score higher than them, their soul is going to get scooped out of their chest, and that will be the end of that.

They know; that’s not a very positive mindset to have, but how could they think positively after seeing a round like that?

Dogamy and Dogaressa (who miraculously don’t look out of breath) nuzzle their noses together, then step off the court and onto the sidelines.

“How did you like that, human?” asks Dogaressa with a confident smile.

 Ski nervously rubs their arm. Should they do something? They’re fate is already sealed since they know they’re going to lose, but maybe they should give credit where credit’s due.

They offer an ironic thumbs-up.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best idea, because now the Dogi are looking at them like they just shoved some snow up their nose.

_Someone could light me on fire right now and I’d be okay with that._

“IT’S THE HUMAN’S TURN! PLEASE STEP ON TO THE COURT!”

Papyrus’s announcement snaps Ski out of their mental rut, and they run over to the unnecessarily large snowball.

“WHENEVER YOU’RE READY, HUMAN!!”

“Quick question,” says Ski to Papyrus. “I can only use my feet, right?”

He flips through a few pages of the tiny book. “MMMMM, NO, IT’S NOT LIMITED TO FEET. FOR EXAMPLE, YOU CAN USE YOUR HANDS! HEAD! HAIR! EYEBALLS! EVEN YOUR TINY FINGERNAILS! JUST NO MAGIC TO ALTER THE MOVEMENT OF THE BALL.”

Ski nods their head. Good golly, they can’t wait to see how this will play out.

They tap the ball with their foot. The thing doesn’t even budge.

A whistle blows. “TIMER HAS STARTED, HUMAN! THE GREAT PAPYRUS WISHES YOU LUCK!!”

Ski curses under their breath. They really need to get this ball moving, so they put in some more strength behind their next kick.

The ball moves, but not very far.

This isn’t working. The clock is ticking. They have to try something else.

Ski plants both of their hands on the ball, and with a little extra force, rolls it slowly along the path.

Okay, _this_ is more like it. Sure, they’re not completely sold on the idea that they could win the game, but the fact that they’re making some form of progress does alleviate their worries. Sort of. Kind of. Not really.

A curve is coming up. All they need to do is handle it a certain way, and they should be able to make the turn-

...Hold on a minute.

Is the ball getting _smaller_?

No, they must be hallucinating. In the first round, it never looked like the Dogi’s snowball was shrinking—but then again, that round was cleared in a short amount of time. There’s a good chance they never noticed it because everything was moving so dang fast.

Even though they’re still mulling over the prospects of melting snowballs, Ski turns the corner and ventures into the next part of the course. However, they’re totally distracted, and fail to notice the upcoming ice tiles.

The ball suddenly grinds to a halt.

Panic wriggles up Ski’s spine. They peer over the ball, and find that it has rolled onto some unfortunately placed ice.

_God DAMMIT._

Before they can push the ball away from the ice, another horrifying image meets their eyes.

The ball is shrinking. _Fast_.

Ski pulls at their hair. What the hell are they supposed to do? They’re nowhere near the goal, and the ball is getting too small to push…!

And then, an idea. A stupid, dumb, ludicrous idea. 

In a last-ditch effort, they run to the other side of the shrinking ball and kick it in the direction of the goal, “Hail Mary” style. The crowd holds their breath. The Dogi hold their breath. Ski holds their breath. Kid sleeps for no reason.

The tiny ball melts into nothing before it can land in the hole.

The crowd gives a collective “Awwwwwww.”

 “THE HUMAN COULD NOT PLACE THE BALL IN THE GOAL, SO THEY ARE NOT AWARDED ANY POINTS.” Papyrus sends an apologetic look to Ski. “SORRY ABOUT THAT.”

Ski returns to the sidelines, slumped over and embarrassed. There’s no way that could’ve gone any worse. They’re expecting Orlite to offer some input or critique, but she hasn’t said a thing since the game started. Maybe she’s feeling hopeless about it, too. Or maybe she’s just being her usual quiet self.

The next round begins, and the Dogi perform another perfect run. Orange flag. Five points.

It’s Ski’s turn now. To avoid a similar ball-melting catastrophe, they survey the course before they start, committing to memory the location of every tile of ice. Once that’s done, they do a mental run-through of some potential plans that might get the ball into the hole faster. See, they were too nervous the first time to properly develop a winning tactic, but now that they’ve played a round, they’re in a much better position to get something right.

They don’t bet on that possibility.

With a not-so-firm plan in place, Ski nods to Papyrus to signal that they’re ready to go. Papyrus eagerly nods back.

_Here goes nothing._

They close their hand into a fist.

Reel it back.

And with all the might they can muster, they punch the ball so hard it breaks into pieces.

And those pieces melt.

No more ball.

The crowd is in hysterics.

“Whoa, Ski!” Kid calls out. “How the heck did you do that?? Teach me when we get home, okay?!”

All the color drains from Ski’s face. “Wha??? B-B-B-B-But I…????”

Papyrus’s eyes are all bugged-out again. “UMMM…BECAUSE THE HUMAN DECIDED TO TAKE OUT THEIR ANGER AND FRUSTATION ON THE SNOWBALL, NO POINTS WILL BE AWARDED THIS ROUND.”

Ski so badly wants to explain what they were hoping would happen: they’d punch the ball, it’d move fast and far, and with a few more power-packed punches, they’d be home free. With enough precision, they’d even navigate around the ice.

But of course, like every plan they’ve come up with, the damn thing falls apart, just like the snowball.

They turn around to look at the Dogi, and it looks like the two dogs are having a wonderful time on the sidelines, munching on nice cream and hi-fiving each other.

Meanwhile, Ski is feeling sick to their stomach. They only have one more chance to turn things around and win the game, but if the highest amount of points one can earn at a time is five, then it’s not looking so good for them. Not good at all.

Ski steps off the court as the Dogi step on. Time to watch the both of them perform another awesome round.

Strong kicks, swift passes, and stupid-fast reflexes. Yup, that was perfect. Orange flag. Five points.

And now it’s back to Ski. Truth be told, they’re starting to feel a little lightheaded. It’s getting hard to focus, too. Perhaps this is what happens when certain doom comes knocking on your door: you stop paying attention to what’s happening around you and everything seems to fade away into the background. They’re certain Papyrus has called them up to start their round, but they can’t hear him. Their mind has turned into an aimlessly drifting cloud. Not only that, but their hands are shaking, heart is racing.

Surely, this is the end.

_I…I don’t think I can do thi-_

They hear a gentle voice. “Ski? Ski! Can you hear me?”

Wait, was that…?

“Orlite?” they whisper. “Is that you?”

“Yes!” she cries. “Yes, it is! Finally, I can speak with you!”

Hearing Orlite’s voice eases Ski’s raging nerves.

“Why haven’t I been able to hear you?” they ask. “And how can I hear you now?”

“I can think of a few reasons why,” says Orlite. “But first, call a time-out. I do not want you to forfeit the match just because you are speaking with me.”

“HI! HELLO! HUMAN! YOUR TURN! PLEASE! STEP ON! TO! THE COURT!”

Papyrus’s shouts finally reach Ski’s ears. They don’t want to waste any time explaining their request, so they just make a “T” with their hands and hope that gets their message across.

“WHAT?” asks Papyrus. “A TIME-OUT? IS THAT ALLOWED???”

Dogaressa chimes in. “No one has ever needed to call a time-out before.”

Dogamy does as well. “It’s obvious the human is just finding an excuse to extend the game. They don’t nee-”

The tower monitor comes on, and blue light floods into the town square. Everyone turns towards the screen.

Asriel is on it.

_“No, it’s fine. I’ll allow it. Your victory is within reach, Dogi. Let the human have their way for now.”_

The Dogi, shocked at Asriel’s sudden appearance, quickly bow. “As you wish, my lord!” they say together.

Papyrus bows as well. “UNDERSTOOD!!”

Ski is too busy squinting their eyes at the obnoxiously bright light to give Asriel any kind of answer. What could they even say to him? _Hey, thanks for adding a couple of minutes to my life! You’re a true pal! And might I say you are looking extra spiffy in that striped shirt._ Yeah, right. No and thank you. Speaking of which, what kind of ruler wears striped shirts anyway? Shouldn’t they be wearing regal attire?

Asriel looks directly at Ski with a teensy smirk on his face. “ _I’m only here to observe how much power you can draw from that Alpha Robe of yours.”_

Ski takes a tentative step back. “H-How did _you_ know this thing is called an Alpha Robe?”

“ _Doesn’t matter. Take your time-out if you need it. You have three minutes.”_

Well, that’s awfully generous. Ski thanks the few lucky stars that are still watching over them and continues their conversation with Orlite. Quietly.

“Okay, let’s make this quick,” says Ski. “Have you really been trying to contact me?”

The wings on their outfit open to expose familiar multi-colored eyes, and Orlite begins to speak. “I have. This entire time, I have been calling out to you, and you never heard me.”

“What? Why is that??”

“Ski...are you determined to win?”

Ski groans. “ _That’s_ what this is about?? Orlite, _please_ , this entire match has been a disaster. I haven’t scored any points, and I can tell you with almost complete certainty that I am not going to score any points this last round, too. It’s kind of hard to be ‘determined’ when you know your soul’s about to get ripped out of you.”

Orlite is silent.

Realizing what they just said, Ski slaps a hand over their mouth, then sheepishly runs the same hand through their hair. “Oh man, Orlite, I am _so_ sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like that. I was just frustrated and-”

“No, I understand,” says Orlite. “That is the exact reason why you have not been able to hear me. If you are not determined, our connection grows weaker. As for how we can speak now, I cannot say, but I knew you would have to hear me eventually. I am glad it happened when it did.”

“TWO MINUTES LEFT ON THE TIME-OUT, HUMAN!”

“Okay, okay,” says Ski, “Let’s move on. I need to stay determined, right? So how do I do that when I have no way of beating the Dogi at this game?”

“You do have a way,” says Orlite. “Ski, have you ever been on a sports team?”

Ski scratches their head. “Yeah, actually, I have. Track and field. Why do you ask?”

“When you are worn by me, I can gauge, in a way, your physical capabilities. You are strong for your age.”

“Thanks, I appreciate the compliment, but I can’t tell where you’re going with this.”

“I enhance those physical capabilities and bring them to a level that transcends regular beings. You need to harness the heightened power I lend you to win your battles.”

“But I _am_ harnessing the power. At first, I could barely push the snowball, but then I punched it and it broke apart. Wouldn’t that count as improvement?”

“No. Because you failed to stay determined, your powers started to fluctuate, causing your strength to dip and spike at inopportune times. When you needed a little power, you barely had any, but when you needed more, you used too much. See what I mean?”

“ONE MINUTE!”

“Dang it! Orlite, we need to wrap this up. What do we do to win?”

“Ski, when you competed in track and field, did you trust yourself to use the right amount of strength at the right time?”

Ski ponders this for a quick second. “I guess? Yeah, I’ll say that’s true.”

“Then trust yourself here. Trust yourself to know what needs to be done.”

Ski looks uncertain. “You know that’s easier _said_ than done, right? Not trying to be mean or anything.”

“I know you can do it,” says Orlite in the most soothing voice she can offer. “And I know your friend in the crowd thinks so, too.”

“My _what_??”

Ski turns their head to examine the large group of monsters watching the court. Amidst a varied selection of colorful creatures, their eyes pick out Kid, who is snoozing away…while standing up. What an incredible sleeping technique.

Ski struggles to hold back a smile.

“TIME-OUT IS OVER! THE HUMAN MUST CEASE ALL CONVERSATION WITH THEIR CLOTHES AND COMPLETE THEIR ROUND NOW!”

The announcement slaps Ski right back into reality. They feel a surge of anxiety knock them in the gut, but Orlite’s voice lessens the impact.

“You know what to do,” she says.

Slowly, Ski steps on to the court. They turn to see what the Dogi are up to, and find that they’re both looking pretty damn pleased with themselves.

“Ignore them,” says Orlite. “You are about to win this game.”

Ski takes a few deep breaths, walks over to the snowball, and takes their place behind it.

Orlite adds one more thing. “Try to finish in ten seconds or less.”

“What???” asks Ski. “Ten seconds???”

She says nothing else.

Good lord. Is finishing the course in less than ten seconds even possible? Ski knows that the Dogi took a little more than ten seconds to finish their round. If they’re both the current champions of this game, does that mean no one has ever taken less time to reach the goal? And if that’s the case, is taking less time really the key to winning this game?

All this mulling won’t get them anywhere, so they strip their mind of every worry picking at their thoughts, and focus on preparing for the task at hand.

They think about Orlite’s words, and the promise they both made to find a way out of here. They think about the progress they’ve made, and the small steps it took to reach this point. And finally, they think of the words on the stick, and the far-reaching hope it instilled in their heart…

…and their soul.

And now it’s time for a plan. They shut their eyes for a moment, turns some ideas over in their head, and open their eyes once more. They’ve got it.

Kid’s voice echoes out from the crowd. “Ski! You can do it!! Gooooo get ‘em!”

Ski holds up a non-ironic thumbs-up at him.

“Hey,” says Ski to Papyrus, “would it be alright if you counted the seconds out loud to me?”

“WHY, OF COURSE, HUMAN! I AM ALWAYS EAGER TO DISPLAY MY SOPHISTICATED ‘COUNTING ALOUD’ SKILLS!”

They nod. It’s time.

Immediately, Orlite gives off a pinkish glow. Yellow stars surround Ski’s body. A gentle, energy-filled wind blows through the entire town square.

_Here we go._

Ski grabs on to the ball with both their hands. With almost no effort at all, they hoist it up and balance it on their shoulder. It’s not perfect, but it’s as close to a shot put position as they’re going to get. 

“ONE SECOND!”

They turn to face away from the goal, and lean forward at the hips, legs bent.

“TWO SECONDS!”

Summoning a little more power for this next part, they reposition their feet to rotate their body 180 degrees, and use the momentum to hurl the ball high into the air.

The crowd hollers. The Dogi gasp. Papyrus almost falls out his chair from staring at how fast the ball is traveling.

“THR-WAIT, NO, F-FOUR SECONDS?!?!?!”

Ski crouches down, quickly prays that their legs don’t break from what they’re about to do, and launches themself off the ground to go after the ball.

“FIVE SECONDS!!!”

As they get closer to it, they look down and notice just how far up they are, and their heart starts thumping like mad.

“SIX SECONDS!!!”

They shake it off, quickly survey the course below, and find that they and the snowball are almost directly over the goal.

“SEVEN SECONDS!!!”

 Finally, they reach the ball. Now they have to get it in the hole, and quickly.

“EIGHT SECONDS!!!”

  
 They hesitate. They lift their hand. They spike the ball downward.

“NINE…!!!!”

It drops at lightning speed.

“TE-!!!!”

And it crashes into the ground, right where the hole is. An explosion of snow erupts from the collision, and clouds of white consume the entire town square.

Ski successfully lands back on the ground and looks around. Did they even score? They can’t see a thing.

Eventually, the air clears, and they get their answer.

There’s a giant crater where the hold used to be.

But that’s not all. Parts of the court are utterly decimated. Snow is strewn about in all directions. Cracks are all over the now turned-off monitor on the tower.

_Good god. Did I do that?_

Something pops up from the middle of the crater.

It’s a _red_ flag.

Papyrus, who had fallen backwards out of his chair from the force of impact, rubs his head, clumsily rises to his feet and makes his way over to the crater. He jumps into it, walks over to where the flag is, and once he gets there, he finds a passage written on the triangular fabric. He clears his throat, and reads it aloud:

“‘BRAVERY. JUSTICE. INTEGRITY. KINDNESS. PERSEVERANCE. PATIENCE. USING THESE, YOU WERE ABLE TO WIN AT BALL GAME.’ WAIT, DOES THAT SAY…‘FIFTY POINTS AWARDED?!??!!’”

The Dogi, covered in snow, look at each other in pure disbelief. “Fifty points?!”

Ski, winded from the news, pinches their cheek, then their arm. “Fifty points??”

A random monster, pleased with the outcome, throws up a V-sign. “Hell yeah, dude, fifty frickin’ points!!”

There’s roaring applause from the rest of the crowd. Kid is bouncing all over the place, as usual.

“You did it, Ski!!! Wooohooo!!!!”

Orlite’s voice pierces the celebratory mayhem. “Excellently done, my child. I knew you could do it.”

“Yeah,” says Ski, “that was pretty insane. Was I determined enough?”

“Much better than before. There was doubt here and there, but you are getting better.”

“Ah, okay,” they say. “Work in progress.”

At that moment, a single yellow star gleams over their soul, then disappears.

_What was that all about?_

Ski hears footsteps behind them. They turn, and see the Dogi approaching them, the self-satisfied looks on their faces now replaced with…respect? Humility?

“Human,” says Dogamy, “we have lost this match. You are the victor, and you may keep your soul.”

“However,” says Dogaressa, “we come to you with a request. There is no way we can show our faces to Lord Asriel after this defeat. Please, we ask of you-”

The Dogi bow, then speak together. “Use your power to kill-!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t even finish that thought,” says Ski, waving their arms around to dispel the tension. “I’m not doing that. No fighting, and _certainly_ no, uh, ki-killing.”

The Dogi look up at them, confusion in their eyes.

Ski swallows, unsure of how to continue the conversation. This is usually the part when they say something stupid and ruin everything, but they try their best to pass on some good vibes to the dogs in front of them.

“Look,” they say, “you guys did great. I can’t say this game was fun or anything like that, but I have to admit that watching you two play was really cool. Maybe we could get together and, I don’t know, trade Ball Game secrets or something?”

They hold their breath. Did that do the trick?

The Dogi look at each other, and their eyes light up with hope.

“A brand-new world has opened up for us!” says Dogamy.

“Yes,” says Dogaressa, turning back to Ski. “We will never forget this, human. Thank you.”

Ski lets out a sigh of relief, and gives them a genuine, heartfelt thumbs-up. Seemed like the right time to do it.

Orlite’s voice rings out in their head. **_“Let’s hang out in your SPARE time!”_**

_Seriously, what the hell is that supposed to mean?_

Papyrus, already out of the crater, walks up to Ski and the Dogi. “SO THAT’S IT?? THAT’S THE END OF THE GAME???”

A new person speaks out from behind Papyrus. “Yes, it is,” says a gentle voice. “The human is victorious.”

Everyone turns to see the new arrival.

It’s Asriel Dreemurr, in the flesh.

“LORD ASRIEL!!”

“Lord Asriel!!”

Papyrus, the Dogi, and all the monsters in the crowd bow down.

Ski is in shock. This is the real and true Asriel Dreemurr? He’s…shorter than they expected. They were picturing him as a taller boy, but with his round face and big eyes, it’d make more sense for the both of them to be about the same height. He probably decided to style his hair into bangs to hide his young features, but honestly, the look isn’t fooling anybody. The crimson trident he’s holding upright is also causing some serious visual dissonance. It barely surpasses him in height, and the sight of him standing next to it gives the impression of a young child playing a game of “King of the Mountain.”

Is this really the leader of the Underground?

Whatever the case, Ski keeps their mouth shut. Best to let him do all the talking.

But he doesn’t talk. He grabs onto the trident with his other hand, turns it sideways, and thrusts it in Ski’s direction.

In the time it takes to twitch a finger, they duck out of the way. A lock of their hair fails to clear the attack, and is chopped off by the prongs.

Ski almost chokes. “What the hell?!”

Asriel withdraws his trident. “If you wish to know why your soul is broken, and if you wish to know how to escape this place, then I want you to _fight_ me for it.”

“Ski,” says Orlite, “do you…really intend to fight him?”

“I…I…!”

_I don’t know what to do!_

“This,” says Asriel, “is Holy Trident Ignis. It can pierce through anything, even an Alpha Robe.”

He advances once more, slower this time, but with every step he takes, Ski can feel his presence intensify. It’s almost suffocating.

They unsheathe their stick, hold it out in front of them, and manage to block his attack. The contact of their weapons, however, creates a massive shockwave that pushes a large portion of the crowd up and away from the clash.

“I can’t keep this up,” says Ski, struggling to shove the trident back. “He’s too strong!”

From literally out of nowhere, a black ball the size of a grapefruit rolls up and lands in between Asriel and Ski. In the next millisecond, thick puffs of smoke spew out from the ball and engulf them both, causing Asriel to retract his trident. Ski counts this as a blessing from above, and uses this opportunity to take a few steps back.

For the second time today, the air clears, and there’s a huge gap between the two of them.

Ski shakily points their stick at Asriel. “W-We’ll finish this later. Let’s go, Kid!”

Kid scurries up to Ski, and as if planned by a cosmic deity, another black ball appears, and spouts out more smoke puffs to obscure their escape from the town square.

The air clears _again_. Ski and Kid are gone.

Papyrus walks up to Asriel. “FORGIVE ME, MY LORD. I WAS _SURE_ THIS PLAN WOULD WORK. THAT HUMAN IS STRONGER THAN I THOUGHT.”

“Revoke the Dogi of their LV Two privileges,” says Asriel, “and remove all this snow from the square.”

 After a bow, Papyrus leaves to tend to his orders. Asriel closes his eyes.

“It’s just as I thought,” he says. “Alpha Robes are quite powerful.”

He opens his eyes. “You have my attention,” and smirks, “ _Ski_.”

*****

**-EPILOGUE-**

**-THE UNDERGROUND-**

**-THE ATTIES’ HOME-**

*****

Soft snores once again fill the shared bedroom of Bratty, Catty, Kid, and A-dog. It has truly been quite a day, complete with an unprecedented game of Ball and an unexpected visit from Asriel Dreemurr himself. Countless monsters could call this a day worth remembering, and they will surely continue talking about it for weeks to come.

But there’s one person who would rather forget the whole thing, and let it fall apart at the far edges of their memory.

It’s not too difficult to figure out who this person might be.

A whisper pierces the sound of snoring. “Psssst! Ski! Hey, Ski!”

The human resting closest to the wall, Ski, keeps their eyes shut and pretends not to hear their name.

“Skiiiiiii! Come on, dude, wake up!”

Maybe if they stay perfectly still, he’ll give up and go back to slee-

Aaaaand he’s nudging their side with his feet. Great. Now they have to wake up.

Ski opens their eyes and turns to Kid.

“Hi, Ski!”

They stare back at him.

“I wanted you to tell me how you beat the Dogi at the game today! You wouldn’t tell me at dinner. You were so quiet.”

Stare.

“Yeah, that’s the only thing you did tonight: stare at nothing. You were freaking me out.”

They blink.

He looks bummed out. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Ski wrinkles their brows, then turns to face the dingy ceiling.

“Sorry, Kid.”

“Sorry for what?” he asks.

The list of things they’re sorry for could rival the length of a dictionary, with “sorry for being a generally unpleasant and negative person” located somewhere near the top. What they’re most sorry for, however, is the thing they’ve been planning on tell him ever since they first ran into each other.

The problem is that they don’t really know _how_ to tell him.

Ski isn’t ignorant of the feelings of the people around them. Well, they try to be, but no matter how hard they pretend to be unaware of it, they’re always cognizant of the effect their words have on others. That’s why they’d rather remain silent at times. That’s why they’d rather remain _alone_ at times.

Or maybe it’d be better if they were alone all the time.

So now Ski has to break the news to Kid that they’re walking the rest of their journey solo. It’s the best thing for him. He can go back to doing whatever it is he did before they met. He can be happy. He can be safe.

And honestly, he would just get sick of Ski anyway. This is usually what happens: someone meets them, sticks around for a bit, then disappears to go make better friends. It’s happened before, and it can happen again.

There’s no turning back. If they don’t do it now, they never will.

And with this, they can live life the right way.

No more mistakes.

“Kid…?”

“Yeah, Ski?”

_Do it!_

“Why do you hang out with me?”

_What?! Are you serious? That’s not what you wanted to say!_

“Why do I hang out with you?? ‘Cause you’re awesome, duh!”

“Aren’t you scared, though?”

_You are a complete idiot! Don’t drag out the conversation! Get it over with and get out!_

“Scared of what? There’s nothing to be scared of! I’m having the time of my life!”

Ski turns to face him. “But you’ve been captured! _Twice!_ And they actually hurt you the second time. If you stay with me, you’ll be in even more danger! Why would you risk your own safety?!”

_Good. Let him know that there’s no way he can tag along with you-_

“Because I know you’ll come save me.”

_?_

“W-What?”

“Every time something bad happens, you’ve been there to bail me out. You’ve always been there, Ski.”

They don’t say anything.

Kid smiles that big, Kid-like smile. “I really do think you’re the closest friend I’ve ever had.”

Ski can feel their entire body shaking. They’re furious. Upset. Heartbroken. They’re everything, yet nothing at the same time. Tears prick the corners of their eyes. They pull the blanket over their face.

_Why the hell is this happening?_

 “Ski?” he asks. “Are you okay, dude?”

“Y-Yeah,” they say, wiping their eyes under the blanket. “I’m fine.”

_What a goddamn lie._

“I’m perfectly fine.”

_I’m so stupid._

“Just fine.”

_So stupid._

“Alright,” Kid says. “If you say so.”

Ski spends a couple of minutes getting their emotions in order before finally pulling the blanket down. Kid is still looking at them.

“I _am_ scared about one thing, Ski.”

Their eyes widen. “You are?”

Kid swallows. “I’m scared about you fighting my parents.”

Ski’s voice increases in volume. “What?! Your parents?!”

Catty disrupts the conversation. “OH. MY. GOD. You two are, like, WAY too loud. Either keep it down or go to sleep! JEEZ.”

It’s dead quiet for a few seconds, then the snores pick back up.

Ski sighs, and keeps their voice as low as possible. “Why would I fight your parents?”

Kid casts their eyes downward. “Because my parents are in the Royal Guard.”

That familiar rock of dread sinks to the bottom of Ski’s stomach. “They are?”

“Yup. And so is my sister. They left a while back to join, and I haven’t seen them since. I think they’re stationed at the Capitol.”

Ski doesn’t know what to say.

“I was too young, so I stayed behind. I hear it’s hard to leave the Capitol if you work there, so they probably haven’t had time to come see me. Until they do, I’ve been staying with Bratty and Catty.” He swallows. “I really hope you don’t have to fight my family, though.”

Ski is suddenly overcome with a horrid bout of nausea. The thought of fighting Kid’s parents almost makes them throw up on the spot.

“That won’t happen,” they say.

“Huh?”

“It won’t. Trust me. I’ll be out of here way before I have to fight any more guardsmen.”

Kid smiles, but it quickly fades away. “You’ll leave?”

Ski scrambles to come up with an answer that’ll quell his worries. “Y-Yeah, but it probably won’t be for a while. I still need Asriel to answer some of my questions, like why my soul is broken and stuff.”

“Does having a broken soul hurt at all?” asks Kid.

They put a hand on their chest. “No, it doesn’t. I never noticed it until I saw it the other day. I assumed it looked like any other soul.”

“Does it feel weird?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Does it make you feel hungrier than usual?”

“No.”

“Does it-?”

_“Kid.”_

“Whoops, sorry. I’ll stop now.”

Silence.

Ski can’t believe how much this conversation has drifted. They were supposed to tell Kid they wanted to handle this journey alone, and now they’re saying they won’t leave anytime soon. What is this? Why are they so weak-willed?

_Maybe I should try one more time._

“Hey, Kid.”

“Yeah, Ski?”

_Or…maybe not._

“I’m going to sleep. Good night.”

“Okay. ‘Night, dude!”

Ski buries their face into their pillow, and hopes this all ends soon.

*****

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
